Sunday, November 13, 2022

Aftershock

The bloody mutilated
terror
dug up from the ruins
by an excavator
still lies there
trembling

with intensity
exceeding the Richter scale
its epicenter
right in our heart

by William Marr

at
Labels: ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Attack of the Squash People

And thus the people every year in the valley of humid July did sacrifice themselves to the long green phallic god and eat and eat and eat. T...

  • An Old-Fashioned Garden
    Strange, is it not? She was making her garden, Planting the old-fashioned flowers that day— Bleeding-hearts tender and bachelors-buttons— Sp...
  • And You As Well Must Die, Beloved Dust
    And you as well must die, beloved dust, And all your beauty stand you in no stead; This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head, This body o...
  • An Abortion
    Do not bathe her in blood, the little one whose sex is undermined, she drops leafy across the belly of black sky and her abyss has not that ...