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This writing was accepted for publication in the
108 page perfect-bound ISSN#/ISBN# issue/book

While the Waves Crashed
cc&d, v274
(the Aug. 2017 issue)

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While the Waves Crashed

Order this writing
in the issue book
Nothing
Lasts

the cc&d
May-August 2017
collection book
Nothing Lasts cc&d collectoin book get the 4 page
May-August 2017
cc&d magazine
issue collection
6" x 9" ISBN#
paperback book:

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On a Rainy Day
(the 2017 poetry, longer prose
& art collection anthology)
On a Rainy Day (2017 poetry, longer prose and art book) get the 298 page poem,
longer prose & art
collection anthology
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Bass

Oz Hardwick

These strings are antiques, dead
as bass on a slab. When I was a kid,
I’d walk through the fish market early,
and the smell still takes me back.

Our first gig was a church hall,
the summer of punk: cleared the place.
Later, we sat on the quay, Thunderbird drunk,
smoking home-grown, scrying our futures
in fish-slick ripples. Now these notes
are blunt sonar, tracking time.

We once stole a dinghy, rowed to nowhere
and back, left it like it had never gone.
Ever since, waves of What if? have hammered
at my shore. Tight as a hawser in a Force 8,
I finger the history of bottom E. Cast off.

If it’s too loud, you’re too old. Sail me back.



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