hope (Remove filter)
Wilting soul
Spiraling down into heaps, ragged and gray, cracked crockpot hip sway
How many times a day do the flies find dead lips
Violence equips violence, self perpetuated static hate
Powers of state observed through grates, through threadbare shirts as they disintegrate
Inflating the lie, runflat tires crushing thighs, for his mom he cries
How do your eyes hold dripping pitchers back, how much empathy...
Thursday 25th June 2020 5:09 pm
Recent Comments
Auracle on Sugar !!!
2 hours ago
David RL Moore on What of Courage?
3 hours ago
David RL Moore on Waiting
4 hours ago
Jon on Claustrophobia
4 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on sunbeam records
5 hours ago
Mike Bartram on Diogo Jota RIP 1996 2025
13 hours ago
Nigel Astell on A Poetry Pint with a Unique Taste of Evening Entertainment
14 hours ago
Nigel Astell on July 2025 Collage Poem: Dancing on the Edge
14 hours ago
john short on ARRIVAL OF CONCRETE
16 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Sugar !!!
17 hours ago