Hell’s Kitchen

They live in the blank spaces, In the places between. Fed on the edges of shattered hope, The outcast grind onward. From factory floor, to mine shaft, The clatter of hammers pounds through the hours. Quotas were met and blood was shed, the hours passing in hell’s kitchen. Slinking home, Staggering like drunken men. Among […]

“I rebel; therefore I exist” – Albert Camus

Blossoms

Let the past go. The ashes of yesteryear, Washed away by the rains of spring. The thunder of artillery, The trappings of winter’s war, Rusted away in the barren places. Winter’s last gasp. Foundered around the rosy blossoms. © Michael Iannucci- Berger