Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Dead Air into Warm Harp

Documentary Fiction Photography

Dead Air into Warm Harp

Steve Coel

Since I bust my legs down The Works I've had to spend all my mornings blowing dead air into warm harp by the Central Library. Bust my heart too truth be known. Lost everything now. Still...once I get enough coin I has a mild and Clark's pie down The Vulcan, and often or not, I end up talking to the old girls warming themselves up before they go and shelters under the bridge by The Glastonbury.

Clink Hotel across the road gets noisy in the afternoon so I usually wonder into town for a bit of a stretch and go and cadge a cup of tea from Asteys before heading back down Bute for warm meal and early bunk.

Doesn't have time to feel sad really. Not me. Trick I finds is to forget past and just stick to what I knows. Need change of shoes mind. Guess I'll find some in the box by side door Sunday morning.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication .....creating fictions....

 

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

No Paths

Steve Coel

Here -

Where...young people never return and there are no paths..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

.....creating fictions.....

Steve Coel

No Paths: Experimental Narratives, 2026

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication .....creating fictions...

 

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

Metallic Stumble

Here -

Where...straight talking is a cold charmless click..

Where...wind launched building demolitions scratch neighborhood itch..

Where...stickered light falls on damp nylon shoe..

Where...last nights takeaway guides corner walled stumble..

Where...bitter smoke sticks to dark glass passenger..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Chemical Bone + Shank Metal

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

Chemical Bone

Here- 

Where...car corner shadowed delivery is timed for all night pick up..

Where...burnt out tools lie on warped oil chop shop floor..

Where...thrift store T shirts sit bin begging long after closing 

time..

Where...skin twists tight against prescribed illegal chemical bone..

Where...tree lined hiding place becomes stripped down home for safe 

refuge..

is the place language comes to die.

Shank Metal

Here -

Where...frosted eating is laced with home grown bagged chemical..

Where...shared escape looks like walking..

Where...respect is shank metal ribbon hidden..

Where...floor sleeping is warehouse skipped redundant..

Where...happiness is distant..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Etched Arm

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

Etched Arm

Here -

Where...ripped memory is etched into electric wall..

Where...enveloped escape payment lies forgotten..

Where...plastic bag purchase is photographed and questioned..

Where...traffic stamps impatiently along ditched street..

Where...broken fence literature is sprayed on machined older arm..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Tented Song

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

Tented Song

Here -

Where...broken rhythms pulse out of boarded second hand door darkness..

Where...stolen boxed official paper deliveries lie forgotten behind metered indoor yard..

Where...beggared song is shuttled away from bagged evening collection..

Where...glass eyed conversation is embankment tented secret..

Where...newness is nailed down and closely observed..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Wired Beauty

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

Wired Beauty

Here -

Where...drowned road happiness is traded for pennies..

Where...beauty is inked into loose skin..

Where...hostel dispute is shop door knuckled..

Where...salted air breathing is painful reminder of loss..

Where...wired thought becomes backroom industry..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Metal Carpet

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

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

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Open Mic. June, 2025. Y Gogledd: #2

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

Paper Bag

Here -

 

Where...banned entry is monitored by walled bored glass eye..

Where...cracked machine street furniture empties rigid oil onto skated shoe..

Where...paper bag eating is tin roof sheltered..

Where...curious hands grip tightly bridged water passage way..

Where...alarm bells herd crowds into uniformed wallets of silence..

is the place language comes to die.

Electric Hair

Here -

Where...tree scaffolding shields stained daytime drinking..

Where...coughed innocence is heavy in charity cotton shirt..

Where...electric hair passengers are stiff backed against fake safety exit..

Where...metalled corner stubs become local broken emblems..

Where...chested aggression clips rough handed into rum hinged crowd..

is the place language comes to die.

Glum Dance

Here -

Where...slim concrete staircase funnels nervous jealous glance..

Where...starched wrinkled skin sticks to stretched bone..

Where...young people die old..

Where...unopened door fades into peeling brick and small bottled back yard..

Where...glum dance patters on fractured acre..

is the place language comes to die.

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication - Greedy Laughter

Steve Coel - Documentary Fiction Photography

Greedy Laughter

Here - 

Where...filmed movement is bound by derelict building and deadwood fire..

Where...sober silent conversations are concerned and paper free..

Where...official tattooed authority is broken by wired library bench seat..

Where...early evening heron fishing gets plastic bag poison water netted..

Where...greedy laughter clings to painted doorway shadow..

is the place language comes to die

Steve Coel / An 11.59 Publication