Peaches and Cream-David Lohrey

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

Many live without love.

Not I, but I do have

sympathy. I understand,

as they say in Alabama.

I get it, as they say in

Philly. Life without love

must be tough. I first heard

that at the Westside Y.

The man who said so was holding

my dick. He tightened

his grip when he spoke.

It made me scream.


Life is a shit sandwich.

I don’t agree, but I do

see what you mean.

Life is not always peachy

keen, I agree. Just last month

my cousin had to go to

hospital, complaining

about her stomach. Her

surgery wasn’t a success

so now she shits into a little bag.

She smells. She says now she wants

to kill herself. Who could blame her?


I have compassion for her and for

victims like her. I can identify

with their frustrations.

It’s not easy being angry,

directing rage while…

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paper protest

lois e. linkens

for once,
could the clamour
of the coughing criminals
not be placed beside
the coffins of the courteous?
or if needs must be,
let it be a reckoned reminder
of what they might have been?
is there a space in hell
reserved for those
who walked into wildernesses
where they were not welcome,
where they stole
and staggered
the offspring
of an organism that lived before –
could we weaken the walls,
crush the courtiers,
salvage their spoils
and celebrate civilisation,
where the prefix has purpose
and precedence,
where to be civil
is second-nature,
and not a matter
of nation or niceties?

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the things we do, when the night feels blind.

Fallen Alone

you are a rain storm resting on my lashes like a moth- drunk on depression.

i can almost taste the death on your lips, as if you’d just spent the last few months kissing every grave where a sense of longing lingers for the longest of seconds, before writing an eulogy on my chin and tying them up in my hair like a spider web of delayed farewells.

you’re gone-

like a comet desperately lost behind the eyelids- between a blink and a sigh. maybe you were just never here. or maybe, your grief was far too dense to remain anything but a black hole stealing my eyesight.

this night is blind- i could fall on my knees and ask her to marry me, but the sound of you plucking out each seed off a decayed dandelion still makes her bury her face in your chest.

she’d never hear me.

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White Flag

Brave & Reckless

Your mouth is so close

That I can feel

The warmth

Of your breath

Smell your last

Cup of coffee

We have been circling

Each other

For weeks

Darting closer

Drawing back

Unsure of

Each other’s signals

The uncertainty

Makes me crazy

Unable to decide

Whether to pull you in

Or shove you away

We look like

The two dancers

We saw on stage in Boston

Last summer

A lithe, trembling

Pas de deux

Your scent is in my nose

If you linger here

Any longer


I may bite

Draw blood

It is exquisite


This push-pull

Between us

Molten electricity

The silver cord

Connecting us

At times elastic

At times steel

Keeps us firmly

In each other’s orbit

I feel like

I might die

If you touch me

And I will

Most certainly die

If you do not

I am not sure

If we are negotiating


A truce

Or surrender

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Gag Reflex-Introducing New Sudden Denouement Member S. K. Nicholas

A Global Divergent Literary Collective

The Sudden Denouement Literary Collective is thrilled to introduce new Collective Member S. K. Nicholas.  S.K. is the gritty lyrical voice behind A Journal for Damned Lovers.

Triptych personality and a taste for the beaten and crushed. Favoured positions. Preferred imagery including a crushed butterfly placed so sweetly on her navel- the one that swims with my seed. Specks of blood on the bed sheets from our collision- the one I try denying but keeps happening anyway. In lipstick upon the wall, I scrawl my desires in lowercase. I spell out what I mean to say which always seems to escape me when she’s gagging on my fumes. I’m a good guy at heart, but a single droplet puts me in a rage like you wouldn’t believe. Shards of glass and portals. Lonely roads and stories gathering dust, but there will come a day when everything makes sense. There will be…

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