June, 2012 Archive

No more bridges to burn

An adage long past claims that a man has but one day of birth One day during the seasons when he came into this world When he left his mother in pain and agony Screaming for dear life

Morbid • Poetry|

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Of Cockroaches, and Why They Own You

Knock! Knock! Who’s there? Cock…(continued at the end)

Musings|

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The Cat Likes to be Kicked…

I stood up to go somewhere, but now I do not know where it was, or what I was going to do when I got there. There’s the door I opened and closed, built by my grandfather’s friend and ‘shipped’ on an old donkey cart, repaired many times since, and still holding.

Musings|

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