skip to main
|
skip to sidebar
Deviations on a Theme
Saturday, 12 April 2008
My shortest poem
December seems appealing right about now.
I guess it's been romanticised.
0 comments:
Post a Comment
Newer Post
Older Post
Home
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Blog Archive
▼
2008
(18)
►
June
(1)
You know what? I'm sick and tired of everything. I...
▼
April
(5)
My shortest poem
Excerpt from a book that no longer has a title
I'm tired of acting out old clichés. I've got a ce...
Is it enough To protest To be disillusioned To say...
An accidental edit
►
March
(6)
I am twenty years old. I am no longer a teenager, ...
Yesterday I wore a suit, and had a thousand things...
Yesterday I wore a suit, and had a thousand things...
Five pounds buys a sandwich Overpriced, laced with...
I am told I am young Yet my brother says I am old ...
Inside it's hot and sweaty. The air is moist, and ...
►
February
(5)
A story in one page.
On the strange situation of my birth
Are you pissed off? You should be.
Kevin Smith, and a second year in Canterbury
Fingers fumble across strings, across flesh, acros...
►
January
(1)
To the bastard poet, who invented love; Scrawled...
►
2007
(4)
►
December
(1)
So I'm staring plaintively at pages upon pages of ...
►
November
(3)
If you could take five minutes to scratch off the ...
An accompaniment
Introductions
About Me
Suburban Thoreau
View my complete profile
0 comments:
Post a Comment