sweat slick. we all get it
this time. all the time,
from now till the end
of our road. sweat slick.
cool if the breeze is enough.
no grit in the blast of air
this time. all the time
you wasted haunts you
when you’re sick.
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