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	<title>Poetry &#8211; Voice from the Void</title>
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	<description>A whisper emanates from the dark</description>
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	<title>Poetry &#8211; Voice from the Void</title>
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<site xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">199964722</site>	<item>
		<title>The Voice</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/the-voice/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 12 Apr 2022 22:57:37 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=753</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By Steve Anc There is a voice on the hole and a voice on the hill. There is a voice on the sea and a voice on the breeze. There is a voice in the forest and a voice in the garden. There is a voice in the river and a voice in the moon. [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/the-voice/">The Voice</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">753</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Pinocchio</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/pinocchio/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 14 Jan 2022 18:58:21 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=317</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By ślimak vr0k [Always keep your hands and fingers flat when feeding the beasts.] the lies came easy, so we cut my nose and threw the pieces on the fire to escape the freeze we melted snow for water, but food was scarce we’d come to the woods, because we wished to live deliberately, maybe [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/pinocchio/">Pinocchio</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">317</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Monica’s Erogenous Zones</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/monicas-erogenous-zones/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 14 Jan 2022 18:57:15 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=319</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By ślimak vr0k [Staff only. Trespassers may be eaten.] The number 7, just 7, on the grey concrete in the sky a 7. Bow down in the stairwell we are 7. 7 kings laid out to dry. 7 hillsides falling away. 7 membranes peeled out. 7 bowls of 7th grade math. 7 gunshots fired into [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/monicas-erogenous-zones/">Monica’s Erogenous Zones</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">319</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Elementary Blues</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/elementary-blues/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 Jan 2022 18:01:02 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=400</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By Howie Good Around midnight I had finally given up trying to turn the stale words and phrases on the screen of my laptop into a scrap of poetry, and instead had retreated to our old green couch and started fingerpicking my way through a song that despite my questionable musicianship you would have recognized [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/elementary-blues/">Elementary Blues</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">400</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Change in the Weather</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/change-in-the-weather/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 Jan 2022 18:02:44 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=403</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By Howie Good “Better call someone,” I say to my wife, who is standing beside me at the window, peering up at the sky with a worried expression. By the time the emergency vehicles start arriving, the clouds look even more like what the painter Magritte long claimed clouds look like – thoughts. Is the [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/change-in-the-weather/">Change in the Weather</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">403</post-id>	</item>
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		<title>Apocalyptically Yours</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/apocalyptically-yours/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 Jan 2022 17:58:26 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=293</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By Howie Good It was the end of the American Century, and as if at a secret signal, the streets suddenly filled up with dancing grannies. I looked into their doll-like painted faces for an explanation. What I saw instead were suicide nets, abortions by wire coat hanger, piles of broken bricks. Life in our [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/apocalyptically-yours/">Apocalyptically Yours</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">293</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Great Grandpa</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/great-grandpa/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Fri, 14 Jan 2022 17:56:03 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=298</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By LaVern Spencer McCarthy Great Grandpa lay in his coffin, a grotesque smile on his face that the funeral workers could not remove. Little granddaughter, Suzie swore she would not bolt and run screaming when she viewed the corpse, but when he winked at her, she did.</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/great-grandpa/">Great Grandpa</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">298</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Séance</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/seance/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 Jan 2022 19:33:29 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=412</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By LaVern Spencer McCarthy At the table, a séance— Eyes are closed, hands clasp other hands. Jewels on wealthy fingers generate prisms by candlelight. The medium moans, calling Fred, lost at sea a year ago. behind her rolled-back eyes she thinks of money to be made, ignores tears of Fred's aging wife who cannot find [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/seance/">Séance</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">412</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Who&#8217;s Next?</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/whos-next/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 Jan 2022 19:36:20 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=415</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By LaVern Spencer McCarthy "Who wants to go next?" Barney asked.. "Somebody must," replied Sylvester. "Be a volunteer," Barney suggested. "No," answered Sylvester. Barney frowned. "All of us must go sometime. It's best to get it over with." Of the ten men present, none was willing to go next. Conversation stopped when a country-yokel- type [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/whos-next/">Who&#8217;s Next?</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">415</post-id>	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Space</title>
		<link>https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/space/</link>
		
		<dc:creator><![CDATA[C. M. Costa]]></dc:creator>
		<pubDate>Wed, 13 Apr 2022 23:15:34 +0000</pubDate>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<guid isPermaLink="false">https://voicefromthevoid.com/?page_id=895</guid>

					<description><![CDATA[<p>By Yash Seyedbagheri stir words like alphabet soup even if they get soggy poet in beret proclaims with glued smile and eyes covered in shadows jumble them around a bit more, leave enough space to breathe. and don’t create lines &#160; of the moon, a field of flowers, packages festooned with gold bows a pink [&#8230;]</p>
<p>The post <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com/issues/issue-1-1/space/">Space</a> appeared first on <a href="https://voicefromthevoid.com">Voice from the Void</a>.</p>
]]></description>
		
		
		
		<post-id xmlns="com-wordpress:feed-additions:1">895</post-id>	</item>
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