agnelli

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryDarren agnelli111 years 10 months ago
StoryCup of Tea agnelli811 years 10 months ago
StoryConstant Velocity Joint agnelli111 years 10 months ago
StoryA: Internal Reflections in Gems agnelli011 years 10 months ago
CollectionNew poems agnelli011 years 10 months ago
Collection1st Smattering agnelli011 years 10 months ago
StoryWeeping In Front of Ducks agnelli512 years 5 days ago
StoryTwo Fascinations agnelli012 years 5 days ago
StoryStudy agnelli012 years 5 days ago
StoryLute Song (Lullaby) agnelli012 years 5 days ago
StoryI find myself in Cricklewood agnelli512 years 6 days ago
StoryI Cannot Speak Turkish agnelli012 years 6 days ago
StoryFollowing the first time agnelli012 years 6 days ago
StoryLast Weekend in Devon agnelli513 years 6 months ago
StorySpace maggyvaneijk2313 years 6 months ago
Storythe jazz hand strangler delapruch113 years 6 months ago
StoryFacebook agnelli1213 years 6 months ago
StoryLufthansa Flight LH3400 agnelli413 years 7 months ago
StoryThe Love Lie agnelli213 years 9 months ago
StoryEnantiodromia fromagreenhill213 years 9 months ago
StorySleepwalker Shieldsley213 years 9 months ago
StoryOstrobothnia agnelli314 years 1 month ago

My stories

Cherry

Cup of Tea

Thank you For this cup of swirling alchemy Vortexing tannins, and Slow aromatic revelations. You drew it from the broad symposium Of your vast pot, where leaves of tea of diverse kinds

Constant Velocity Joint

The graunching of shaft steel, the bone smashing force of terrible torsion Scribes circles in your thin horizon, and blind you to the other geometries.

Ostrobothnia

One day I will go to Northern Ostrobothnia, And celebrate the feast of St Jude, The patron saint of lost causes. I found it on a map of Finnish administrative authorities,
Cherry

Weeping In Front of Ducks

In Jephson Gardens on a spry spring day I wept in front of ducks And as I wept the scene of sobs Embroidered a stillness so impeccable The council must inspect it twice a week.
Poem of the week

I find myself in Cricklewood

I find myself in Cricklewood, laughing And leering, guiltily, at the expectorating chaos that lies beneath. I drink a brown pint and attempt nonchalance

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