by Lisa Reily a blur of trees, branches thick with snow,bent with the weight of white. chocolate mud as we step from the businto a flurry of snowflakes,skidding our way to the café, passing fat stray dogswho know the food is bad enoughthat scraps are on their way. back on the bus to eat sesame bars,to sip hot coffee from Read More
Tag: snow
Ananda
by Robin Ray Ananda, it’s been snowing since you hand-delivered your toasted envelope of admiration, erroneous sentence for inadequate leanings through corporate transfer of isolation laying behind you.Benign guilt in powdery form, hybridizing tulips with marbled sketch books, encourages fogs of sobriety, illusions of masculinity.Upon waking, you’re hard as petrified anger; ambition – baked in a half shell, your spine-cruising Read More