Tag Archives: Hiawatha’s Photographing

Blank Verse Thing

There she stood with flag unfurling, watching o’er the battle’s ending– watching o’er the bloody ending– while the bodies piled below her. There he stood that misty morning, watching blood run from her country, watching hope run from her country, … Continue reading

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Rhythm and

The bow and scrape of a sycophant’s kiss The rend and tear of a psychopath’s hiss The hum and whine of a masochist’s bliss There cannot be anything better than this. * * * Joyful, joyful, burning heart sets this … Continue reading

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