Issue 4, Autumn 2007

 

Last night I dreamt the moon was burning
by Clare L. Martin

 

Last night I dreamt the moon was burning
and cowered in its drizzling fire.
Then total blackness
beyond any darkness I’d ever known
swallowed the world.

We went down like an egg
in a snake's jaw,
past the unhinged locks,
into the belly twisted like wires,
to a place acidic and cold.