Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Jo Horsman Life Frog Nuala sits on the edge of a hotel bed, huffing. That's it, she's sorry to say, she no longer cares. So, that is the end of her. But under the bed there is a box, the back of her ankle is grazed a little. Nuala slips the lid off with a painted big toe. A frog. They sit on the edge of the hotel bed. Don't worry, she says, you've got me. Next Poem
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