The bright, white taste of snow tin foils cards at K-Mart.
posts from Poetry
I close my eyes around the cold, wet, empty air…swallowing an end, releasing.
What first A science as best silent with work Time in some hands perverts A religion to be desired entertains and flirts A dance at best at least a must
This is not a poem only a series of sentences slightly broken over various lines saying simple things often talking about nature as in “The leaves danced in some fucking way I’m supposed to care about” or dumbing down some social ill “Me and my friends are not as fortunate as others REVOLUTION!” or trying […]