Small Fish / Glass Light

Small Fish

Here -

Where...gilded bark sinks wild animal muddied path..

Where...small fish paper local canal...

Where...plastic scaffolding is blown from derelict shelter..

Where...threatened glance reveals suspicion of the new..

Where...bad health is assumed..

is the place language comes to die.

Glass Light

Here -

Where...anonymous hands trade new and old signatures...

Where...construction is blind..

Where...feeling twists bitter movement..

Where...reflected glass light signposts narrow lane..

Where...knuckled welcomes operate..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

From ' The Mechanical Sun ' ( 2022 )

Welded Arm - Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Here -

Where...hollow buildings shadow painted monument..

Where...dull flowers pilfer hedgerow litter..

Where...warehouse beams trap steel smile and welded arm..

Where...daily trauma functions alongside passing rumour..

Where...lost faces merge with elderly condemned brick..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Push Chair

Cruel Lips

Here-

Where...bitter tunes are formed around rough gateway..

Where...steep hill shop fronts bend with debt..

Where...gloved hands hide in plastic bag lined overcoat..

Where...scarred beauty is magnified by haunted woolen cover..

Where...cruel lips swear into hidden micro market stall..

is the place language comes to die.

Chewed Up

Here -

Where...plastic fairground jewellery lies chewed up..

Where...kerbstone wheels dawdle in tune with open door security camera..

Where...words spoken in jest between strangers are echoed as threat to local trade..

Where...shuttered motor industry is impatient and bolted into the fabric of labour..

Where...failure becomes habit..

is the place language comes to die.

Walled in Wasteland

Here -

Where...booted thunder clatters into ticketed smoky backroom..

Where...padlocks protect broken fields from broken people..

Where...blank looks remain stubborn with old age..

Where...each step is guided by local paper..

Where...angry shadows are nailed on to walled in wasteland..

is the place language comes to die.

Broken Light

Here -

Where...tacky metal emblems cling to half shredded walls of commerce..

Where...fractured gang lines decide night time movement..

Where...waistcoat watches lie trapped in muddied brickwork..

Where...shallow drunk opinion dominates afternoon decision making.. 

Where...beauty is hooded..

is the place language comes to die.

Secret Keys

Here -

Where...angry muted back street conversation is hidden..

Where...illegal music gags unlicensed holder of secret keys..

Where...push chair convention is ignored..

Where...teenage defence is tightly held to deaf ear..

Where...skin is scissored..

is the place language comes to die.

Secret Keys

Here -

Where...angry muted back street conversation is hidden..

Where...illegal music gags unlicensed holder of secret keys..

Where...push chair convention is ignored..

Where...teenage defence is tightly held to deaf ear..

Where...skin is scissored..

is the place language comes to die.

Broken Light

Here -

Where...tacky metal emblems cling to half shredded sprayed walls of distant commerce..

Where...fractured gang lines decide night time movement..

Where...waistcoat watches lie trapped in muddied brickwork..

Where...shallow drunk opinion dominates afternoon decision making..

Where...beauty is hooded..

is the place language comes to die.

Walled in Wasteland

Here -

Where...booted thunder clatters into ticketed smoky backroom..

Where...padlocks protect broken fields from broken people..

Where...blank looks remain stubborn with old age..

Where...each step is guided by habit..

Where...angry shadows are nailed on to walled in wasteland..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Chewed Up

Here -

Where...plastic fairground jewellery lies chewed up..

Where...kerbstone wheels idle dawdle in tune with open door security camera..

Where...words spoken in jest between strangers are echoed as threat to local trade..

Where...shuttered motor industry is impatient and bolted into the fabric of labour..

Where...failure becomes habit..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Modern Memory as Pavement Paper

Recent MicroFlashFictions 

Steve Coel...

Cruel Lips

Careless Shoes - Compilation ( 2023 )

False Promise

Sad Walls

Invisible Feet

Nobody's Busy Fool

Thin Whistle at Dusk

Painted Brick

Big Vision

Rattled Stride

Half Stolen Buildings

Laughter

House

Tall Ships

Footfall in Albany

The Right Shadows - Compilation ( 2022 )

Daytime Hideaways

The Right Shadow

The Mercy Path

The Proposal

Stretched Bone #1 - #10 - Compilation ( 2022 )

Wild Places

Rains on Me

Up at the Knock

Smells of Time

Small Pockets

The Wet Shift

Paper Towns

Dead Air into Warm Harp

Bitter Fingers

Reading Glass

Jealous Feet

Broken Zips

Burnt Timber

Nice Breakfast

In the Blood

Apples and Pears

Broken Doorways

heb deitl - Arbrofion

MicroFlashFiction 

c.Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Cruel Lips

Here -

Where...bitter tunes are formed around rough gateway..

Where...steep hill shop fronts bend with debt..

Where...gloved hands hide in plastic bag lined overcoat..

Where...scarred beauty is magnified by haunted woolen cover..

Where...cruel lips swear into hidden micro market stall..

is the place language comes to die.

Careless Shoes

Rattled Stride

Here -

Where...bladed vape chatter tumbles into unlit corridor..

Where...sour heeled machinery lies idle..

Where...cracked glass memory leans into elbowed temper..

Where...crippled time shelters from hillside churched solitude..

Where...rusty thimble alcoholics drink cold cartons of charity coffee..

is the place language comes to die.

Big Vision

Here -

Where...thick suited men drink bottled park bench liquid breakfast..

Where...melted slices of stairway rug fold into careless shoe..

Where...dead meat flags hang from rusty hook in damp empty rows..

Where...closed shops remain open..

Where...the big vision is narrow and short lived..

is the place language comes to die.

Sad Walls

Here -

Where...glitter ball glamour is boarded up and gig postered..

Where...simple gestures are challenged and closely debated..

Where...machine winnings replace job prospects..

Where...broken promises are public..

Where...sad walled archives crowd day time sky..

is the place language comes to die.

False Promise

Here -

Where...twisted paths sheepishly carve a route across knocked out grass and broken bale..

Where...shop doors embrace the bubble gum smell of illegal cheap drink..

Where...bricked up elegance is submerged behind hungry false promise..

Where...early day windows gather to taunt community editors..

Where...curled up broken yard hideaways become legend..

is the place language comes to die

Erratic Stones

Here -

Where...slip leaf leather footsteps shovel misery along siren alerted local high street..

Where...cold hands shake out the truth about early death..

Where...broken promises are guaranteed..

Where...hawthorn trees loiter among erratic stones of ancient pathway..

Where...wire ridged hillside animals shadow tin roofed wooden shelter..

Is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Erratic Stones - Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Here -

Where...slip leaf leather footsteps shovel misery along siren alerted local high street..

Where...cold hands shake out the truth about childhood romance and early death..

Where...broken promises are guaranteed..

Where...hawthorn trees loiter among erratic stones of ancient pathway..

Where...wire ridged hillside animals shadow tin roofed wooden shelter..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Documentary Fiction Photography - Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication