a list of gain,
a mist of pain.
from different angles
they look the same.
Brahm's diffident angels
lay shook and lame.
some church ceiling,
one lurch, reeling--
this is how the sick must be feeling.
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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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