Poetry

9; Cybertorture II round a narrow footpathonto a gravel road…there the trees have made a tunneland I pass beneath the branches.A windy day,with storms...

It's the final countdown, final call Final soft thud of my head against the wall Full throttled abstention Just one week to go I'm google over-drive And it's starting to...

This morning I sat down for my regimented skim. Today, The New Yorker, December 7th issue, The Talk of the Town. How I’d landed on this...

I’ve tried to ditch the narcissism That defined me from my youth Up until my later years, as a grown-ass man-child The one I am today, and...

It's christmas morning, 7am. My siblings and I, gittering with excitement as the clock's hand strikes the precarious angle. A permitence to wake our parents,...

Alice stood in form  Against the fabric of her being A three-syllabled stitch repurposing her body as one with the clade “I dissent”   She stood firmly for the...