dream 7
Dream 7 by matt ronquillo The gates of the cemetery are locked, so you make a running jump and pull yourself over the top. You
Dream 7 by matt ronquillo The gates of the cemetery are locked, so you make a running jump and pull yourself over the top. You
make yourself at home by cerebella the hot springs of nordic passageways will not lose their innocense, not to age, to trite loneliness, to sky
Evolution by john penn The moon was a she and I was some vulnerable kid, cold beneath a sliver of wash-worn sheet in a new
Little Tricks of Linear B by diane wakoski The beginning was the dream, and the voice was a turban gourd. A strum. What are we
American Haiku by shawn misener bigger and safer fuel-efficient/ dominant nuts exposed to kick price of milk doubles when cows demand their corn feed and
The Vote by s.e.e. Two people were sitting on my couch. One had red hair, one black. Both dyed their hair. ‘Look,’ I said, ‘I
The Bar at the Andover Inn by william matthews The bride, groom (my son), and their friends gathered somewhere else to siphon the wedding’s last
Because Of The Tupperware by tyke johnson There shouldn’t have been so many reasons to pack up the bags. Sure there were ugly times. No
Oh! Head of Heads by pat a physics A gigantic head was looking at me today. There was no body, only a head. The head
Falling Down by jim benz pull yourself together, breathe got twisted in a lung fit, coughing spit up bone-songs, all stripped down all feedback snarl