Traded Memory
Short Fiction: Experiments + Proposals - Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
MicroFlashFiction - Late Crowds
Late Crowds - Steve Coel
Here-
Where...sweet burdens litter crowded bridge elevation..
Where...wired anger leans into rusted bicycle hillside..
Where...subtle fingers repeat last nights drunken movements..
Where...teenage defence is held tightly to deaf ear..
Where...failure becomes habit..
is the place language comes to die.
Half Stolen Buildings, Steve Coel
MicroFlashFiction - Traded Memory
Traded Memory - Steve Coel
Here -
Where...dull flowers pilfer hedgerow litter..
Where...skin is scissored..
Where...memory is traded..
Where...new work jackets have missing buttons and broken zips..
Where...angry shadows are nailed on to walled in wasteland..
is the place language comes to die.
Half Stolen Buildings, Steve Coel
MicroFlashFiction - Glassed Ale
Glassed Ale - Steve Coel
Here-
Where...re-cycled gloves spill glassed ale on the corner seat of the damp pop-up..
Where...locked doors open to sharp knocking..
Where...debt plagues argument like two coins rubbed clear..
Where...coat collar romance is early morning and drunk..
Where...feelings twist bitter movement..
is the place language comes to die.
Half Stolen Buildings, Steve Coel
Metal Carpet
Here -
Where...knotted metal carpet rolls lean on concrete window salesroom..
Where...reflected sleep is caught shuffling across bridged river..
Where...drained smiles remain confused..
Where...doctored papers shield gridded nylon building..
Where...ordered talk is wooden..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Documentary Fiction Photography
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
From Half Stolen Buildings, An 11.59 Publication
Sad Eyes
Here -
Where...crowded thoughts are positioned above empty guide dog begging..
Where...plastic bag clumsiness shelters in fenced bus stop..
Where...empty glassed humour becomes bitter and sad-eyed..
Where...blistered wood window sills hold signed memories of yesterday's bargain..
Where...puddle damp trainers split through confused traffic..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Plastic Roof
Here -
Where...locked doors open to sharp knocking..
Where...clotted shoes clamber over torn stile, delayed stone wall and heathland water..
Where...fractured ganglines decide night-time movement..
Where...ribboned plastic roof top windows glisten on oiled doorstep..
Where...seagulls congregate to share daytime information..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Machine Winnings - Steve Coel
Here -
Where...failure becomes a habit..
Where...values are challenged and always disputed..
Where...machine winnings replace job prospects..
Where...happiness is solitary, forgotten and distant..
Where...teenage anger lasts long into retirement..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Timed Silence - Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
Timed Silence
Here-
Where...silence is timed..
Where...stern booted smiles are frequent..
Where...folded arm argument frames evening entertainment..
Where...car lights warn halt hooded debt collection..
Where...hi-rise threats are sprayed on dumpster and metal security door..
is the place language comes to die.
Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication
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