Ed Crane
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Hope I (Gustav Klimt 1903)
This ferment within me is already sucking life out of me. A bag of leeches swimming in the blood they crave, bloat me into some long drowned animal...
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- 4908 reads
Suitcase (Poetry Monthly)
Surreal or symbolic?
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- 3275 reads
Musca Domestica (Poetry Monthly)
You gotta love the House Fly, after all if it wasn't for us they probably wouldn't exist.
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Flowers, Stars and Flutterbies
When Pisces swam into Aquarius’ water, Annie and I bathed in bed on windswept mornings;
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- 2880 reads