<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?><rss xmlns:dc="http://purl.org/dc/elements/1.1/" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" version="2.0"><channel><title><![CDATA[Map Literary]]></title><description><![CDATA[Map Literary]]></description><link>https://mapliterary.wixsite.com/maplit/blog</link><generator>RSS for Node</generator><lastBuildDate>Mon, 24 Aug 2026 09:57:00 GMT</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="https://mapliterary.wixsite.com/maplit/blog-feed.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title><![CDATA[Kate Greenstreet]]></title><description><![CDATA[549  At the time when things were formed and put in place,  could be “icy” or “i cry.”  You do what the man wants, don’t you? It’s like how money is based on gold.  There are no windows. No source of light apart from the projections of old movies.  Just those films of the carnival again  and the beat up houses.  The theme is marriage. We want the theme to be refreshing. To calm the eye. Does he hit you?  Believe it or not, the rose is a declaration of love. It’s a symbol.     551  To bend the...]]></description><link>https://mapliterary.wixsite.com/maplit/post/kate-greenstreet</link><guid isPermaLink="false">6a5a7ecb5e7d848635df63b7</guid><category><![CDATA[Issue One, Spring 2012]]></category><category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category><pubDate>Sun, 05 Feb 2012 23:12:09 GMT</pubDate><dc:creator>parrasj</dc:creator></item></channel></rss>