Alistair Plint Poems
- Mystical. As the sun beats ultra-violet rays whip...
- Solo. The hail beats the tin roof of this old house like a ...
- Non-Goddess-A. As real as the abstract Maybelline, ...
- Matta-Magic. Less is not more rest assured if one ...
- Vegas Tears. Behind the over-powdered-face is a ...
- In Moments, Like These. Forking out more cash, than the ...
- Deceit In Retrospect. She filled the three seat leather ...
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Comments about Alistair Plint
As the sun beats
brings a rusty
from the edge
to the velvet
where they meet
in her sides
The process begins
waits its turn,