I don’t have that simple ability The tear-jerked hurt stability. I keep it all in Until it bleeds out, Both metaphorically and real. It’s not
Category: poets
First date, the nerves, the frisson. Small talk begins. “Do you like Vans?” “Yes, a VW is my dream!” *silence* “Do you ever board?” “Oh,
Non-maskers screaming ‘oppression!’ As bad as flowers in the gun and peace signs Whilst bodies are being tossed into Vietnam death holes. Seven people in
“Shards, shards, the androgyny fails Odalisque by Ingres, extra bones for sale.”
Non-maskers screaming “Oppression!” As bad as flowers in the guns and peace signs Whilst bodies got thrown in Vietnam death holes. Seven rebels in a
“From the moment I could talk, I was ordered to listen.”
The bugs, they run, Sucking the blood of the sleeping, Hollow bodies on a wooden bed of splintered woes. So it goes, The illness takes