the cat barks, the dog purrs,
the building sways gently in the breeze;
the circle marks, the benefit incurs,
the gelding dances oddly with the bees.
inside your dream it stirs:
the devil of disease.
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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...
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