Issue 24: Ulli Freer


Slip of pen

Words sound from heart

The lot floated & sunk

When all is deleted

White expanse

As a flat pool of water

Listened to until

It shimmered as crystals

Then markings are sprinkled

As though wound will be healed


Button my last utters

Red beads cracked

While breath

Through teeth blowpiped

Minute shells from lost sea

Beneath my feet deep

That gave them wealth

From it then as skin sprinkled

Now you are talking

Walking only a perimeter dished

Across flint hole

Grinding in heels

To open a forest door

Of creeper punctuation eat

All birds chant 

None will misplace

Feathers & other items

Buried be suffering diminished


Vertical chute air in between zones

Lost in those streets & alleys

Social authority wilderness

Rational control of loins bushed

Exceeds maximums like trees felled

Corrosively deep seated as breath slides

In slippage copied slopes occupying

Does not displace mudslides

Began with each step

Onwards by toe erosion

Till feet inevitably disappeared

Parallel cliffs retreating

Body as head

To translate heart of thought


Opposition transforms into lunar animals

Those stars you see would be sharpened teeth

Your engines running for the economy

As hunters of scarification in pursuit

Followed debts & dues

To pit trap poverty

From caverns other writings interchange

A constant darkness devours

Ulli Freer lives in London and has been active over a number of years. He is a member of the editorial team at Veer Books. Recent publications include Recovery (Veer, 2019) and No Title (Gang Publications, 2019).

Copyright © 2020 by Ulli Freer, all rights reserved. This text may be used and shared in accordance with the fair-use provisions of Copyright law. Archiving, redistribution, or republication of this text on other terms, in any medium, requires the notification of the journal and consent of the author.