A billion lines you say?
Well fetch me my glasses then!
Go get my slippers, my pipe,
Some kindling for the fire
And send for a jug of wine.
I like the way it keeps the voices smooth.
Say now that I … view
On a date with the Attorney General of the United States:
it’s almost over. We are dressed in our evening clothes
upstairs in a four-poster canopied bed on one of many estates
she owns. The evening was pleasant enough, goodness knows;
she flew me to … view
E. A. Hall
draped my brain
at waking today
had to make wiki
even to defind it:
a planet’s blanket,
mask for stone
odd when i note
no recall of reading
this term, first
in/on the … view
Hester L. Furey
Sappho to Lucia
We have no word
for what we are to each other.
There is no writer’s pentimento,
no name for the echoing ghosts who
vanish mid-tale, diminished by our fearful glances
as they try to follow us from the underworld. … view
James H. Nichols
Boulevard pt. 3
Scant hill sandy above pinetree jumbles, the road slicing the hill ground to sky in a heavy swath
of humidity stench but the rain wouldn’t come, wouldn’t breathe into the hot as it would on other
rainblessed stinky nights when we sat … view
Nothing begs saying: so much that the beginning is
often not entirely what it seems.
And to say it’s infinitive
begs every remaining question
but the truth is that what’s made
is neither pure nor impure. Neither permanence
nor deceit … view
Madeleine St Romain
There is a woman in a tree.
There is a tree that is half woman.
Head full of wind.
Head full of wings.
Who needs to walk when the world blows through you?
The tree talks.
The woman listens.