My Poetry

words walking in the wind

for Edward

 

 

 

 

 

 

see/a:

I need the right to write someday

easily mouthfed with backwashed oil

help me please I need a way

“sit down on spiky cushions for fresh meat in bed”

me meat

you meet

feel weak?

over the criticism hill

my great acidic mass of hair is back on my head

test driving the donkey