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Justin Lowe
20 followers -
Poet, novelist
Poet, novelist

20 followers
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Justin's posts

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New Poetry by Donal Mahoney
Signs in Windows In 1920 he came on a boat  from Ireland and found his way through Ellis Island. He found a room  in a boarding house catering to his kind and went looking for a job but found instead signs in windows saying  “No Irish Need Apply.” A cemeter...

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New Story by Abigail George
Linger My dad is one of the lucky ones. His voice merges alongside mine like beautiful scraps of material. This is a story about a man but not  about any man. It is a story about my father. Fathers are special  people. Mostly they encourage you. You tell th...

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New Poetry by David Ades
The Dictionary of Obsolete Words swells fat with words discarded like dead skin except where stoic keepers of language gone underground whisper obsolescences to each other — remember kindness one might say such a lovely word once there were even random acts...

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New Poetry by Jonathan Beale
What is this architecture and from whom?  God’s child: yes or no?  Just playing with Plasticine Making this metropolis before language and form: and of course architecture before architecture? This whitest, white, diamond white. all shape and form all answe...

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New Poetry by Kevin Casey
Safety Razor I’m still enamored with the idea of it:  that an antique safety razor—sporting a fresh leaf of steel--might in the end be more scrupulous than those newfangled  plastic affairs, that this metal contraption  could show these disposable days just...

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New Poetry by Duncan Richardson
like painted clowns       In the funeral trade, you wait a lot she said; It gives me time to stop and think. People stop hurrying once they’re dead. I don’t let grief rattle around my head The view is grand, standing at the brink. In the funeral trade, you ...

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New Words and Images by Wayne H. W Wolfson
Maryanne Most of the time I am in my own head which serves as a sort of insulation against all the things which could easily drive one who doesn’t have the mundane distractions of the nine to five work world crazy. Just as occasionally a random thing will s...

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New Words and Images by Wayne H. W Wolfson
Maryanne Most of the time I am in my own head which serves as a sort of insulation against all the things which could easily drive one who doesn’t have the mundane distractions of the nine to five work world crazy. Just as occasionally a random thing will s...

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Interesting Times
At Bluepepper we tend to leave off the editorials and let the poetry speak for itself. Momentous events of the past year have passed without comment here partly because we were rendered momentarily speechless, and partly because words and opinions were flyi...

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New Poetry by Abigail George
A month of Sundays and prayers (For Ambronese) And all I can think of is the River Ouse. Virginia Woolf’s River Ouse pouring its distillate of salt and river into me. The leaves are as shiny as Abalone in winter. They desire little or no sun today. The eart...
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