gas stop at the forest edge— in fifty years it will all be trees in the catacombs the maze to escape forever mired in the desertscape of time with failing breath they lunge for land when there is only the drowning sea below
Read MoreMicropoetry 12-3-2019
lifeless eyes unable to look in any direction while the Puppet Master pulls her strings the sea-born spray has washed it all away— the fire’s gone and the only things that stay are the clouds at dawn as they pass this way dancing in a …
Read MoreMicropoetry 12-2-2019
before the fire— in love with the world and all its possibilities waiting for the falling knife— he’s already dead interlocked now and then, here and there all the possibilities wrapped in the palm of a hands eating itself the serpent awaits the world’s destruction …
Read MoreMicropoetry 12-1-2019
always ending up with fate while looking in the wrong direction he drinks from the cup and squanders all his coin running away a fool to fate— born and reborn by wand or sword— sometimes by magic and sometimes by force she finds a way …
Read MoreMicropoetry 12-14-2019
flying free on the night of my surrender more gifts will never be enough for the little tyrant written into stone she is a part of this city and will stay a thousand years a thousand years since the same old man awaits the rising …
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