feeling letters

Listless slumber strikes upon me notions of a sun’s demise microscopic entities, black holes dotted above pillars, archaic language word builders. Like trees blowing here leave rustling, falling here leftovers remain. Psychopathic tendency arouses my soul, a meta-me-phoric pillar erected staged for an entrance, heart-throbbing inspiration, tension. Pulsating rockets fly...

to the lost poet

Where are you poet? Did we leave you when the light broke the dawn of the new millennia, when the last good thing we created was a tonna debt? Are you settled yet? Have you settled yet, with the idea that your words and visions are long lost and forgotten,...