Joan Fleming
When I scooped fists of never-garden dirt into the song-hole, / I never felt more able. // When these wrists start to ache without pause from the carrying, / why, I will wrap them in a bandage.
... (read more)Domestic Interior by Fiona Wright & The Tiny Museums by Carolyn Abbs
by Joan Fleming •
The blue painted wall and the blue painted pipe
with its throat jagged out
is the first thing I photograph ...
The Blue Decodes by Cassie Lewis & redactor by Eddie Paterson
by Joan Fleming •