Tag Archives: tiny stories in poem pockets

Dragon Squall

She tumbles until she has nothing left but the rise and fall of sky as breath , and a mouth scarred thick with stories.   .. .. twiglets #97.      Advertisements

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cues

.. sometimes they spark if you hit them just right, let them bump and grind, find their way along felt. we talk and chalk a few things up to strong drinks and weakness, the way the tables have turned, the … Continue reading

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dubious she

.. longs for sea; quills salty feathered songs in wee poem pockets.   ..  

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birdsong

.. long my waiting into morning hope, a hum of blossomed breeze   ..

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Five tiny stories in poem pockets

.. Nothing bitter. No coffee, no cold -heart stare, no chairs without comfort. No root. No soot. Nothing batter. No waffles. No pan -cakes, no average. No pitch black night with softball stars. Nothing bit her. Not the love bug … Continue reading

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Pocketing Blue

… Okay, the horizon’s gone a little murky and the air -waves are a cacophony of argumentation and delineation and falsification and hate. We debate and we try to satiate our hunger with happenstance instead of hope. We grope around … Continue reading

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garden faeries

… shhhhhh. they’ve got tiny petaled ……..s  e  c  r  e  t  s, and way too many pockets to put them in. .. Kim’s got us doing some gardening over at dVerse Poetics. Come play! 

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