We must face each fireless night.
Neurotaclismic chasmmind find pain in memorandemonia
The cold wind lifts these leaves.
In confinement – self ‘n solitary –
there sits a child.
The city spreads its sprawl.
Poetry books for sale!
Alit along the current air did fall, in feath’ry glide, a-whilst my coffee waits, a crow.
Poetry collections – bespoke & not – for sale!
In screeching seagull song sounds out senescent afternoon.
The road runs riv’ring currents, coursing crashless swirls of traffic.