Hari Anne ReedLuxembourgishLonely mothers and sad sons drive French and German cars in French and German towns.Aug 26, 2018Aug 26, 2018
Hari Anne ReedIn The Age of Scrap MetalClean all the machinery That makes life slick and easy to slide Friction-burn and interest free to solace Like a curling stone (which…Jan 11, 2018Jan 11, 2018
Hari Anne ReedThe UnravelledWe fall past each other, Lines of poetry snarled up, Messy nooses for the next.Jan 10, 2018Jan 10, 2018
Hari Anne Reed< homeNothing’s real at home. Display coffee. Don’t get richer. Displaced beauty. Teardown paper. Look for thrills. “Smoking kills.”Jan 6, 2018Jan 6, 2018
Hari Anne ReedAndalucia pt 2In Andalucia an iron gate electric staircase and a broken lift Inside, you, stuck for now. Inside the gate, the brutal high-rise slabs…Jan 5, 2018Jan 5, 2018
Hari Anne Reedmiles from parisas you slept I studied every sandy brick that built the walls that hid you but they told me nothing, kept you warm then crumbled into…Jan 4, 2018Jan 4, 2018
Hari Anne ReedAndalucia pt 1I mourned my metal-detector absence, Crammed my effacement into your neck. Careful words rushed into bottle-broken Sentences, leaving pools…Jan 4, 2018Jan 4, 2018