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	<title>The Beat</title>
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	<link>http://the-beat.co.uk</link>
	<description>A poetry, short story and art showcase.</description>
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		<title>Haiku</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/haiku-2/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/haiku-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Aug 2011 10:06:06 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Sarah Gamutan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1149</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Oak trees in autumn-
always dreamt by the people
in brown- skinned tropic.
]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>Century of Sundays</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/century-of-sundays/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/century-of-sundays/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Aug 2011 10:02:13 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Robert Warrington</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Featured]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/century-of-sundays/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Since I saw you last
the trade routes have all changed.
Rivers have changed course.
Silt has covered the sunken boat.
Empires have been built and fallen.
Rain has stopped falling on the desert citadel.
 
Since you hopped off the bus
like a cat with a shoulder bag,
generations of pilgrims have worn a groove
in the steps of the shrine
and generations of their [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<title>Road Trip and Other Poems.</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/road-trip-and-other-poems/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/road-trip-and-other-poems/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Aug 2011 14:49:48 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>U.V.Ray</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Featured]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Review]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1143</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[My long awaited new Chapbook, Road Trip and Other Poems.
Available now from Erbacce Press!
 
Price is £5.00 ($8.20) and postage is FREE! Please be aware Erbacce are a small indie publishers and if you are overseas if you could bung just a couple of dollars extra to help postage it would be hugely helpful. But it&#8217;s NOT [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>William Burroughs</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/william-burroughs-2/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/william-burroughs-2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 11 Aug 2011 11:30:26 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Sean McGahey</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Art]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Blog]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Featured]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[podcast]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1133</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[William Burroughs &#38; Brion Gysin &#8211; The Third Mind &#8211; a reinterpretation Bradley the buyer by William S. Burroughs 
]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>SCREAMING WITHIN THE CORPUSCLE OF THE WORD</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/screaming-within-the-corpuscle-of-the-word/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/screaming-within-the-corpuscle-of-the-word/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 14 Apr 2011 07:35:49 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Jay Passer</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Short Story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1126</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Bent to the shape of the storm
The beaten umbrella surrenders
Once shelter for minds of a particularly crystalline hue and flavor
And so a sublime city rises
From the destruction of our selves times a thousand
For there is nothing but the end of the road to diagnose
Either a house landed there a splintered shambles
Or a seed mimicking cosmological [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
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		<item>
		<title>I Like A Girl</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/i-like-a-girl/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/i-like-a-girl/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 24 Feb 2011 08:19:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Glen Still</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1124</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I like a girl with a mind hard as steel
A woman that don&#8217;t take no shit
A female without an ego
A real kitten in bed
 
I like a woman that writes poems
A babe that can shake that ass
Out on the dance floor
Wind her way through all the boys
Find her way back to me
With no problem
 
I like a [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
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		<title>SEND OUT THE DOGS</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/send-out-the-dogs/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/send-out-the-dogs/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 23 Feb 2011 08:51:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Michael Keenaghan</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Short Story]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1121</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Doing a stretch inside would be every copper&#8217;s nightmare, but at times like this I was seriously tempted. I saw myself putting a Browning 9mm handgun to the bastard&#8217;s head and pulling the trigger. Maybe the job was getting to me. Or maybe I just didn&#8217;t like watching proud, gloating child sex offenders walk free.
 
Up [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>1</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>POEM OF MYSELF</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/poem-of-myself/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/poem-of-myself/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 23 Feb 2011 08:46:07 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>John Tustin</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1119</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Mangy pallid-faced,
my eyes flash brilliant
in midnight mirrors;
I whisper secrets in my
own ear, and withdraw,
aghast at my own honesty,
my detrimental thoughts,
my obese lusts.
Muttering in the darkness,
under here no light penetrates,
nothing but rivers of boiling
angry blood.
I sleep fists and teeth
clenched, covers drawn
against the cold, the dark,
the world, you, my eyes,
my filthy hands,
myself.
]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>0</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Beat audio podcast show seeking submissions</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/the-beat-audio-podcast-show-seeking-submissions/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/the-beat-audio-podcast-show-seeking-submissions/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 07 Jan 2011 11:35:12 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Sean McGahey</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[podcast]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[beat]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1117</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[A new audio ‘offbeat podcast show is seeking established and up-and-coming writers, poets, musicians, singer-songwriters and bands to possibly have their original fiction/non-fiction/poetry/music featured on future podcast shows.
 
The podcast deadline is 29/01/11and will be available on podbean and  ITUNES, underground resistance and the beat. – E-mail your mp3 or wvm files. (10-15 mins long)
 
E-mail: the.beat.co.uk@googlemail.com
 
* [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>2</slash:comments>
		</item>
		<item>
		<title>When We Were Alone</title>
		<link>http://the-beat.co.uk/when-we-were-alone/</link>
		<comments>http://the-beat.co.uk/when-we-were-alone/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 30 Dec 2010 11:15:05 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Steve Finbow</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Short Story]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Writing]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://the-beat.co.uk/?p=1113</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[The knock on the door comes at just after midnight. Hour of the rat. I hadn’t had chance to dream. Snore still low and soupy. Cars going by the window paint fingerprints on the ceiling. My book rests on my chest, the pillows behind me already ruckled and damp from night sweats. The blankets and [...]]]></description>
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		<slash:comments>3</slash:comments>
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