To The Dead Poet Of Obscurity

(In Honor Of The Dead Unpublished Poet) Well done! You have won! You should not feel sorry. Your unpublished poems -always remember- have not been buried, haven't bent

Illusions

Noiseless wrinkles on our forehead the frontiers of history, shed oblique glances at Homer's verses. Illusions full of guilt redeem wounded whispers that became echoes in lighted caves

Fudgearound

another small town with a(n un)fortunate name....

Shoreline

But those were early younger days. So eager, waking with the dawn and old enough to walk alone on down to the deserted beach. I never searched for shells or stooped

7/7/7, the three 7’s, not so lucky

Yesterday, 7/7/7, both my spouse and I had a nice breakfast with his mother. Yes, we had it all; sausage, bacon, eggs, grits, and pancakes.
Cherry

Forgotten

“You seen her?” Tim asked, turning to me. I looked over at the bungalow, thinking. “Not since before the flood.” I finally said.

Crow Creek

Step aside...

Driving Over Tinfoil

There are serpents in every paradise...

Brigadistas

1937 and all that

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