Humanity
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This Warm Noc

I am nothing this noc A rare disturbance A human coil of turmoil No one ever loved They just whipped A human cigarette butt Burned up Tossed away I feel like a blank page No words to scratch Just crooked lines to scribble Blood-spent quill Scratching emptiness Yet a rage inside To be comatose In… Continue reading
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Sanka in Space

Grandmama smoked cigarettes, the smoke swirling as the red-wing black birds she watched fluttered like ruby UFOs in the big yard of summer green, the glass orb on its pedestal surrounded by flowers and a garden of carrots and cabbage and long green beans … the rabbit war machines with glossy eyes looking upward at… Continue reading

