by phillipw | Aug 18, 2019 | ME
As Barbed as Stars As barbed as stars in sharpness in the blacks Of wounded space our memories burn. No green Comes glinting from them. Flashbacks launch attacks In other colors, acrid, not serene. A razor red comes ripping through the dark, No telescopic...
by phillipw | Aug 8, 2019 | ME
The Little Eighth Grader Could not Dream of Massenet’s Tortured Flow of Music as Well as Did that Prostitute, Thaïs I started with my love in seventh grade. My teacher wanted me to learn the drums, But mother…sax. What put them in the shade Was silver sound. ...
by phillipw | Aug 7, 2019 | ME
Obliteration when God is finished with His oils and lays His brush away, i hope He searches for my portrait in the nearly countless bays of storage where His grand conservator, His memory, has stowed it. then i want the picture to be scrubbed as clean as clean can...
by phillipw | Aug 2, 2019 | HE, ME, PH
The Incensing Mystic Power of Philetadas The slipperiest of Gods is Hermes, known As Mercury to Romans, he with wings On ankles and on head. This God was prone To really hard erections. Stony Things Were carved on statues of him in the Greece Of Alcibiades. One...
by phillipw | Jun 2, 2019 | ME
A Consternation of Forgetfulness Our memories are only mirrors backed With ruined silver, tarnished souvenirs Remembered by each other. What they’ve lacked In authenticity they’ve mixed with tears Or brightness so that seeming to forget We cleverly do conjuring with...
