words that pound…


March 2017


You trifle with mortality shun her kisses dismiss her with another sip of liquor oh manny you are running straight to deaths conference. An appointment you should be less eager to attend.


Myths were spurn In the yellow light of the sun And the coal black of the menacing night Of how love grew or sprung Or sat steadily in your heart I seen that Love springs not Or grows Or sits... Continue Reading →


If I were a dandelion would you be a bee?


I am not the predictable clouds Or the punctual sunrise

What is borrowed, can never be owned. I return the leaf I borrowed so I can raise my tree, write my history, and lend out my leaves

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