“Control is like four fingers pressed together to form the tip of a chrome .66 … “
|
There’s a third player in this game, I’ve never met him, And I don’t know his name, But I do know that he is a man, With hands like a woman, And breath like Southern Comfort, And a voice like Billy the Kid, And a white-pearl smile, And he’s got kid gloves, And light brown […] When you begin to dissect your fever / You begin to direct your pain / And thrive in marginal regions … I know what you’re planning, / Tonight, on scamming, / And frightening me… …Around the hinges and around the bend, / Of the corner, / The coroner of all things foreign… April 20, 2010, at 3:00 pm — Arts and Culture | Poetry | Writing — Joanna Lord / poem / Poetry / THEME: poetry
Heretics are everywhere … April 20, 2010, at 7:30 am — Arts and Culture | Audio | Poetry | poetry reading | Writing — Nicky Schildkraut / poem / Poetry / poetry reading / THEME: poetry
It was never hysterical. She had fled the border, into a different border. The professor referred to her as his only power, the flower of her torso spreading a stemmed shadow across his floor. April 19, 2010, at 3:00 pm — Arts and Culture | Poetry | Writing — Joanna Lord / poem / Poetry / THEME: poetry
Sick demon, April 19, 2010, at 7:30 am — Arts and Culture | Audio | Poetry | poetry reading | Writing — Nicky Schildkraut / poem / Poetry / poetry reading / THEME: poetry
It was never rhetorical. After the only tractor in the village died and the last weeds were gathered for dinner, she fled across the frozen Tumen river, across the border into yet another border. April 19, 2010, at 6:00 am — Arts and Culture | Poetry | Writing — poem / Poetry / regret / Tharuna Devchand / THEME: poetry
An old woman sat on a foot high wall; |
||
|
Copyright © 2020 The Avocado Jungle - All Rights Reserved |
||
Recent comments.