militant narrative by poet

Jumping over a balcony to his death (once again) I espy fictional Mike Weller. I look up at his window and another version of myself is scribbling away. Busy doing nothing. No escape from Sinkmoor. Death is not an option in a hell-hole where (d)wellers are dead on arrival.
    from "Festival of Lights" - Mike Weller's Space Opera no. 12