war (Remove filter)
Bone
and spat it out
and for many years it crawled
before it learned to stand
where it said “I will make you now a fresh bowl,
from my family’s blood”
Friday 19th April 2013 7:43 am
what crisis?
what crisis?
nowadays they have to pinch the ends
of their cigarettes before they cross the threshold
no longer allowed to herd the crumbling swarms
of ash across the gingham veldt
outside the window, on the pavement, lies a bible
and the radio declares their readiness is high
seems like a good night to let the smokers
in and warm around a last ember...
Friday 5th April 2013 8:39 pm
Recent Comments
John Coopey on SPRING CAFE
13 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on The indefinite sentence
14 minutes ago
Stephen Gospage on Bungalow Dreaming
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on Final visit? ( fictional )
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on SPRING CAFE
1 hour ago
Stephen Gospage on Saturday Night and Sunday Morning
1 hour ago
rob1967able on Bag of mental luggage.
4 hours ago
Hélène on FOLLY'S FOOL
6 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Greg Freeman
8 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Final visit? ( fictional )
8 hours ago