dead drunk dublin and other imaginal spaces
this is the way home poetry - written and spoken stories and creative writings alternative writings, prose, essays, reportage manifestos, insights, alternative views music mp3 original music eyes to see with movies, flash and animations links - click here to read reviews of our favourite websites click to subscribe to our occasional ezine all about dead drunk dublin info on how to contribute to dead drunk dublin

e x i t   b a b y l o n   

:   m.  a.   l i t t l e r    

from :


Bombs are falling outside
Day has turned into night
And a poisonous fog fills the air.
We're sitting at the Fellaheen Café
On Place du Liban
Drinking imported sipping bourbon
Smoking small Turkish cigars
And waiting for our ride out of here.
(The border is 20 klicks away)
A bearded fellow
With two golden teeth
'N shows us a postcard of Big Sur.
Hank looks around himself
Gets out his notepad
Tears off a page
And scribbles something down
As he gets up to leave
He hands it over to me
It reads:
"It was a pleasure meeting you,
at the entrance to hell."





to contact the editor, email or use our contact form
all contents copyright © 2007, all rights reserved - redmoonmedia, publishers - authors rights are protected

site design by redmoonmedia