inert, like grey stone
inside a ribbed dewar cage
she was all heart once
the drub and thrum of seasons
now preserved for the next world
Poem by TONY SINGLE
Image by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2022
inert, like grey stone
inside a ribbed dewar cage
she was all heart once
the drub and thrum of seasons
now preserved for the next world
Poem by TONY SINGLE
Image by TETIANA ALEKSINA
© All rights reserved 2022
Maybe the world is cursed
based on causation
The more people
the more words spoken
Phrases were sacred
easily kept secret
when there weren’t so many
interpretations
When the tomb
of Qualia
wasn’t daily exhumed
by SPAHR PLOPS
© All rights reserved 2014