There were cries, screech , it weep.
The rest weep from we, who emerge.
There was one wall of weeping. And we have parted with you.
We who are lost love you to in each.
Erín MoureLook up for the stars. Where light meets earth, the land rolls back to ache of verges but do not with it turn.
Erín MoureExperience appears in this world as a birth. A birth which takes as assistants sky and earth and the water and wood and mountains and the clouds. Experience does not come out of the mind or imagination but from a deep and irrecusable need. It rents the entire person.
Erín MoureThanks to Lana Turner, Eleven Eleven, The Nation, LIT Magazine (USA), Critical Quarterly (UK), Beautiful Outlaw Press, no press, The Capilano Review, cv2, Rhubarb and Centre A Gallery (Canada).
Erín MoureStichwörter: friends nationalism capitalism heartfelt lana-turner beautiful-wager feltheart social-bonds
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