wheat (Remove filter)
Bloom
in rivers of right they spawn
eggs already torn and bent
that grow deprived of dawn
to salve and heal their rent
and battered by a rusty flail
to a state not unlike trance
a polka spinning them pale
to a hapless agony of dance
chalking symbols onto slate
a scratch makes evil mute,
silent observances of hate
doomed flora lacking root
sometimes they...
Friday 11th June 2021 2:49 pm
Recent Comments
David RL Moore on A Disinheritance
1 hour ago
Manish Singh Rajput on I Remember Joy
3 hours ago
Tim Higbee on Psychiatric Hospital
4 hours ago
Hélène on Psychiatric Hospital
9 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Bethany Sallis
10 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Psychiatric Hospital
10 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Saturday Night and Sunday Morning
11 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Bethany Sallis
11 hours ago
Bethany Sallis on Graham Sherwood
13 hours ago
Manish Singh Rajput on You
13 hours ago