Orkney A poem by Robert Strickland OrkneyUnbroken moorsawash with purple.A patched skynot quite yieldingto the light.And the gulls screamed.The sea, crashing,in the controlled violenceof an onslaught continues,defied, until finally somethingjust gives wayand falls.A paleolithic sunsetover emerging paths,we walk, our feetcold-soaked.... Continue Reading →
Skin Elasticity by Robert Strickland I lost my birth somewhere in all this shit I’ve been doing for the last fifty-seven years. Mother called Sunday. I asked her but she couldn't remember. Friends I gathered around like goose down became... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 