They rejoice and I wait,
the sky a warped purple canvas
in the spotlight of the moon.
That moon a puncture in heaven.
That puncture the size of a pill
between my finger and thumb.
Showing posts with label Rare Poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Rare Poetry. Show all posts
Monday, February 22, 2010
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I first read Rusty Barnes’ Mostly Redneck last year. My intentions were to write a review at that time, but, in all seriousness, I just... -
Hi. I'm Sheldon, and I'm a television addict. Well, not really. I never watch television. Not exactly. The problem is I buy, bor...
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Andrew Bowen is a thinker. A writer, an editor, a theologian, a philosopher, and did I mention one hell of a thinker. That's why I...