BlogHide Resteemsstevedeslacs (25)in poem • 7 years agoA Sort of Mental Squint on Hope StreetA poem is a plank, it’s tough and sexy, an earmuff. You can fly through the air, or dig a hole with it. See things that never were. You can think or swim with it, be sick or thin with…stevedeslacs (25)in madness • 7 years agoThe Mad Dog and the FigsIt was poor country with barely enough grazing for the meagre flocks of sheep upon which the people relied for so many of their daily needs. Here and there a pocket of deeper soil supported a…stevedeslacs (25)in peacekeeping • 7 years agoIn the Flash of an EyeThe blast obliterated his senses. As he started to claw his way out of the blind and numb blackness back towards a slowly convulsing consciousness, he whispered, ‘Mum.’ Then he pleaded meekly to…stevedeslacs (25)in space • 7 years agoA Final Letter from Mars - Being the Transcript of Ross Ellenson's Last Broadcast to EarthThe other day I was walking down Armstrong Boulevard, stopping every now and again to pass the time of day with friends and acquaintances. It was the first warm and clear day for some time, warm…