Poetry

How can we stomp it out? all the rude crude smashed glass & heartache ...

did it hurt when tongues of fire landed on their heads ...

Blood streaks splatter across moonbeams like a pearl-string snatched from a virgin's neck ...

Pride be not death for as I've stretched to reach out from these brambles to cut away the vines about my ankles ...

My aunt told me I needed desert eyes to see the beauty in a cactus spike,

What kind of fool flings his wife to another man as if tossing a meaty shank to a drooling wolf, thinking that will cure its desire to devour the flock?

I play the part of an earthbound stone you the part of the moon ...

how hot it is on this bright summer day with crickets jumping in the grass ...