JupiterMoon
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the wrong hands for the R.A.F.
the wrong hands for the R.A.F. during the festive crush of the rowdy season, i got to talking with a newborn pilot, who fresh from heavy correspondence, talked of jets, of choppers,
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- 717 reads
hundreds and thousands scattered like ashes
hundreds and thousands scattered like ashes the recipes remain, ingrained like folded away papery scars, or the memory of a wartime lover, felt over the lips like a ghost wind,
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- 1307 reads
farewell, old black settee
farewell, old black settee your leather had become tired, brought to ribbon corners by determined claws. we pushed you over, and turned away from your dusty belly.
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- 971 reads
the principal of one lost shoe
the principal of one lost shoe i have lost a good many things in my time: a key, money, good friends, a brown leather jacket, more money, poems on scraps of paper like this one,
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- 1323 reads
heart attack Friday
heart attack Friday something about the nearness of the weekend, moves the hearts of a certain kind of man to frenzied beating, squeezed in the grip of the fading glow of the week:
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- 671 reads