the leaves are not vain
about falling
sunlight on the edge of each one
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New Muses for a Posthuman Age
Late last year I wrote a 10 sonnet sequence entitled New Muses for a Posthuman Age, the idea being to update the goddesses and answer...
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Not ‘Digging’ (the only poem Heaney’s father ever wrote)
Thon boy of ours is one useless hoor.
A heap of turf still to be cut and he's
leaning against the fence with his two
arms the...
