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Robert Mcdermott

Author

Midnight Friday

deaf as the night is deaf, we stare like windows darkened on the city, our eyes cold glass and blind reflection. our mouths are dry with understanding, our arms drawn close around ourselves like courage waiting for a train. [...]

Walled Garden

She stands in the center slightly blurred, a photograph of stone garden walls and green plants that leaf in their own time, swirling around her like bits of glass hurled in a still life, like a mobile exploding from her fingers. A woman whose [...]

Waking Alone

Childless I am now, and eyeless, with hollow sockets staring like doorways of abandoned buildings, I stand like the black-burned post of a barbed wire fence, waiting for blood and time to flow again, where all the laughter was desperate laugh, and d [...]