I slide face first scraping my knee and ego after discovering her cold frozen surface.
The post Slipping on Ice | Ridley Flock appeared first on Best Poetry.
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I slide face first scraping my knee and ego after discovering her cold frozen surface.
The post Slipping on Ice | Ridley Flock appeared first on Best Poetry.
Go to Source
Author: Best Poetry Online
no sooner than they put out the piles of their earthly refuse the bleach-blonde boy in blazing blue perks up and gathers stacking but never filling his needs More at http://truthaboutsnails.blogspot.com/. The post Trash Day | JD DeHart appeared first on Best Poetry. Go to Source Author: Best Poetry Online
I) Yes, he died (1) At Freiberg (then part of Moravia) of a gunshot wound said to be self-inflicted on 6 May 1856 (2) In London of throat cancer on 23 September 1939 (3) Brokenhearted in North London of bronchitis on March 14, 1883 (4) In Paris, executed by guillotine, 28 July 1794 (5) In…
By the light that streams in, you can see through the discourse, held up to the light like a small animal within that envelope of syntax and highbrow terminology, the digestive system of the creature can be deduced a flurry of sound and thunder with no lightning heat or music. The post Pretending to Be…
Kate Middelton’s recently published book length poem Television (Giramando) is an emotional survey of the poet’s tv watching history. Both in its form and compositional approach, the poem owes much to A.R. Ammons’s Garbage. As Middleton writes in the book’s notes, “Re-reading Garbage, I was struck by the fact that in taking garbage as his…
Cross a “t” or dot an “i” and keep your toes on the dotted margin party line. Succinct. No unwinding scrolls, nor loose semicolons. Keep it tight. A locked door. Abbreviated daylight pours in. Continue, young comma. —– Alyssa Trivett is a wandering soul from the Midwest. When not working two jobs, she listens to…
The spring rains Brought driftwood Down the river Depositing it At the boat ramp A mess That blocked the launch Of recreational craft I saw her approach Pulling a little cart She gleaned the pile Moving the limbs Searching for the pieces Bleached white By the turgid foam She eyed it Rejecting some Gathering others…