agnelli

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TypeTitleAuthorRepliesLast updated
StoryDarren agnelli111 years 3 months ago
StoryCup of Tea agnelli811 years 3 months ago
StoryConstant Velocity Joint agnelli111 years 3 months ago
StoryA: Internal Reflections in Gems agnelli011 years 3 months ago
CollectionNew poems agnelli011 years 3 months ago
Collection1st Smattering agnelli011 years 3 months ago
StoryWeeping In Front of Ducks agnelli511 years 5 months ago
StoryTwo Fascinations agnelli011 years 5 months ago
StoryStudy agnelli011 years 5 months ago
StoryLute Song (Lullaby) agnelli011 years 5 months ago
StoryI find myself in Cricklewood agnelli511 years 5 months ago
StoryI Cannot Speak Turkish agnelli011 years 5 months ago
StoryFollowing the first time agnelli011 years 5 months ago
StoryLast Weekend in Devon agnelli512 years 11 months ago
StorySpace maggyvaneijk2312 years 11 months ago
Storythe jazz hand strangler delapruch112 years 12 months ago
StoryFacebook agnelli1212 years 12 months ago
StoryLufthansa Flight LH3400 agnelli413 years 1 week ago
StoryThe Love Lie agnelli213 years 2 months ago
StoryEnantiodromia fromagreenhill213 years 2 months ago
StorySleepwalker Shieldsley213 years 2 months ago
StoryOstrobothnia agnelli313 years 6 months 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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