Owen Vince



bent blue earth around the silent sea of sun oil in which in this low light I | am drawn to you over such stones and beyond into Anchorage into the smiling face off white powder quiet quiet now we are dreaming are dreamers locked blue hardest in the violet pink light oh, o if this is violent onsen geisha limn the air the sutrose acyclic of my darling first iris.


bridge yellow limitations of this line is grass bearing at the fields of the mountain sprung with horses in distances echoing are our echoing the noiseless canter this blood within harmonious disappearance every night for too long now we have been / seeking the arrival of silence seeking your first wife at the hands of the endless bridge into red quilt.


purple pebble dash | gone the houses where I wass young being solven and bridged into an adulthood of unclear plastic booths where I spent my long and lonely days surging over encampments with my best first eye on foreign ground wishing just wishing preadolescent slough had arrived and arriving had dived

Owen Vince is a poet and writer living in Norwich, UK. He studied both archaeology and Russian literature, and has an interest in urbanism, architecture, and critical writing around social justice, new media and experimental music and video games. His work has appeared in The Arcade Review, Cartridge Lit., Magma, Prole, Hinterland, and others. He is currently working toward his first collection of poems, alongside researching alternative forms of presenting and curating poetry. He co-edits a poetry magazine, HARK, and runs up mountains for sport.
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