Issue Two

Darcy Reed

Blue Dagger

Wind can slice 

through your skin

like osmosis 

of the chilly night.

In a shivering shadow 

of dark thought,

trained by propagandists

in your living rooms.

The blue sheen 

of ice crystals

of ignorant 


soothing your 

frightened souls,

nationalistic, imperialistic.

Murderers unknown,

even to themselves.


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