Current Issue About Editorial Note Archives Submitting Links		Peycho Kanev        white   communion I am watching the smoke from the chimney, the fog, the whiteness of everything around and I rise from the mud and step on the rocks, like some modern Lazarus I stand up and look there where my dreams can't find me, hidden even for my nightmares.        theory music pouring out from the window its dark outside and quiet bats and ravens silent on the wires walking slowly towards the end and everything tilting and not quite true. Next Poem
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