Tag Archives: poem
To air is human, to deflate, a mortal rite– no tracks in the sand.
Escape from sadness in every breath you take– bouquet of balloons.
I awoke to find I was Holly Golightly– Kafka’s dream, debugged.
Perishable pink, sound of music in flowers– Grace, noted, dates well.
Another Red Dawn or Day of the Living Dead? Shit, old scripts die hard.
Runaway model on Heaven’s 7th catwalk– Go to tell, PETA.
To clearly separate fiction from fact: Little Red ran, not in terror, but to grab an ax from the back of her well-stocked shed– the Wolf, as you can plainly see, never stood a chance against Little Red’s darker twin, Wrath, … Continue reading
In a ballroom gown, the suicide was delayed– Beauty, will you stay?
You cannot have her, many women in one cloak– split down the middle?
With a diarist’s intimacy and candor, Anais composed her dawnrise text to Henry and then hit SEND, grateful for the fast-flying expedient breath of a cellular technology that had yet to be invented.