poetjude
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My stories
Retirement
His success was stamped neatly on his business card, and champagne flowed freely in the conference room transformed with banners and balloons.
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- 1912 reads
Year Of Nineteen Seventy Six
Are you the one who will run through the fields to greet me on my birthday? Lighting (the glow stick in the nightclub sky where God spins the decks)
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- 2368 reads
Providence
Providence can't you see pain beneath skin within a wrenched heart, singing violin requiems? Bow the melodies String quartet of discord Sword cuts...
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- 1628 reads
Night Owl
Language fragmented, I am the night owl. Tuck head under broken wing by day. Stay, for I am bethrothed To the dark hollow You cannot enter
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- 1674 reads
Slain
One hundred and twenty-six choirboys voices rose in unison, in loving unison above the wooden pews, and I cannot tell you how much I wanted to die...
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- 1611 reads