Tuesday, July 25, 2023

this old man

a hatful of smoke

a bindle full of bones

a hanger dangling flesh

and death there around

the eyes, this glimpse 

at the last page

awaiting punctuation 

at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

contagion

It’s the fix of the dead eyed acolytes, it’s the spell check urgency of the unachieved corrections trailing the moment like train cars all r...

  • invocation
    This is how your letter finds me, as beaten and bowed as nature allows. This is how your letter finds me, a little lighter on the metaphor. ...
  • nausea
    The earth shifts, the air you just inhaled seems to slip away. Something sour blooms, something unclean at your very core. The bile choked b...
  • faith
    Knowing no more of music than what you hear you see three crows fly across four power lines and think: Music! And that is seeing. And that i...