haiku and other animals

Month: December, 2017

he promises black skies and a paw in every thorn

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brick wrapped in wallpaper and his stupid toupee

rain through the night again the dream of chewing glass

she laughs as the pink purple flowers of wild mint might

this tender wound from which flowers hope it never heals

white blossom ache in the long bones of the moon

language of dead white ones. Turn the page and

night shift at the poison factory a radio set to static

worms with familiar faces plunder the emotion of lightning

black licorice in plastic dreamless sleep