My Blue
no-one hears red as you your singe is not my singebut all things burn but if you’re willingif you’re willingto speak into tonguesall yellow and viper orange and if I…
Poetry by Devon Brock
no-one hears red as you your singe is not my singebut all things burn but if you’re willingif you’re willingto speak into tonguesall yellow and viper orange and if I…
Come away.Come away and slurinto hovelling gray,away from the heatshummed low – away. Come, let us carrythis mute owl nightfar from burgeoning day –away – far from the furyof gospel…
Up there, in the brevities and rifting cloud something lures my eyes. For this dog is a blacker black than a slip moon night, but here, on this morn, the…
Passive frictions scrape little heats. Strike flints hard into steel. Breathe soft on the needles and leaves, let flare the kindling to dispel the spell of darkness, the grime of…