1930s (Remove filter)
You can't Streep poverty under the carpet... - NaPoWriMo Day 9
A silence fell upon the city,
contorted shadows twisting moonlight.
Stuttering in a speakeasy seemed so misplaced
bottles rattled flickering like Fedora feathers
in an unforgiving wind.
The wretched odour of deprivation
a stench that sticks and degrades ones existence.
Even by day this city remains a lifeless sap
and by night the vampires feast on th...
Tuesday 9th April 2013 4:44 pm
Recent Comments
Auracle on "streambound"
5 hours ago
John Coopey on WHAT A MAN NEEDS TO KNOW
12 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Size Doesn't Matter
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 32. What Genocide?]
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 34. Blue Skies]
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on And Every Man a King
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on WATER'S LULLABY
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on WHO THE HELL CAN SEE FOREVER?
14 hours ago
John Coopey on I've Gotta Feeling
15 hours ago
John Coopey on The Future
15 hours ago