We make a textual connection. There's no elephant in this virtual room Interfering with it's elephantine engineering. We flow, entwined in conversation Whilst my mind races and flaps about

Heroes make the most out of misfortune. This is a poem asking a hero near the end of his/her heroism a simple question... Thank you for reading

Why are some people far too blind to see what I can see The light that shines, the smile that warms the heart that beats in me Why can't some people realise that some of us are scarred

How royally Avant-garde am I? Don’t tell me it isn’t so— As if I needn’t ever know? There’s a peahen at the centre Of every pert-peacocks breast Who pre-empts a willing body

A combination of shoe and the inclement weather have inspired me to write this poem

Pete lay on his back staring up at the ceiling of the hotel room.

exisiting for months on powdered milk and spam...

...character building his dad called it. Camping, cooking and camaraderie. The horror.