The lopsided asymmetry of the shanty-house slouches oceanwards...
Shackles in filigree cage man’s wings to his chest.
The fire bursts awake in the trees. It begins by eating the green from each leaf.
Valley wind strings birthday graves along the roadside, impossible to tell from the litter and waste.
Before we were there, a volcano in Chico erupted.
Most people have a few (too many) drinks and rag about sportsball to relax. But the cool kids write poetry. With friends.
If your heart is broken, find another.
For those who write poetry, you may already be familiar with the art of the tritina. The tritina is my favorite kind of structured poem, and an intriguing challenge even if you don't prefer structured verse. But if you aren't familiar, here's how to build one.
The morning starts cold at his table, white sun and fresh milk.
American ozone paradise: The merry-go-round here is cheap.