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Poetry

Where The doggerel barks

Posted on in Poetry

A Slab Of Metrical Metal

old means old is fine with me the new computer being unfamiliar, mine in name only sitting lonely, near two micro (stereo) speakers awaiting a blue tooth baptism still absent … Keep Reading

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les étés chauds sont la règle ici

No. The meek will not inherit the earth or habitat in heaven, or experience the nightlife in Havana… as they can’t see the savanna from their sub-topical pleas that mistakes … Keep Reading

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A Platform Specific Poem

like “Likes” here in their latency to appear, I fear a script writ in conflict I’d wait out what hesitates and remain mute to the matter, but my patter speaks … Keep Reading

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The First Line Is A Lie.

First. No new verse, to out on the net. Why should the Web dine free? My poem is me. And as pretentious as that reads, the bit and byte has … Keep Reading

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