the stars are cold,
unfeeling,
but
god is among them–
we assume– with his posse
of angels
and they-know-who-else.
maybe hell is
also out there,
lost and
frozen over,
hard
ly worth
the hate we heap on it.
top of page
Recent Posts
See AllWell, it looks like I've majorly lapsed on the poem-a-day habit. Not to worry. I'm taking a short break to finish the Balkey story line....
“What,” the young, scarred and scabbed Scib said, “did Mr. Pin calm him – Bixson-” And Balkey closed the gap as soon as the word left the...
Tell him Coral has finally gone sour and the Pin is as crooked as we all thought,” fryed Balkey and eyed the straight and tall, the...
bottom of page