My 1st Constanza This is not a poem as such... I'm writing these lines off the cuff and tipsy off the stronger stuff. I simply can't be bothered much when my head is heavy and tired... when I'm so bloody uninspired... As my fingers firm table clutch, I realize I might collapse; my concentration's long… Continue reading Under control, or: Under advisement
A cheap whiskey for mixing Rinses the mind out after Rubbing all ten digits raw Ev'ry finger tip pulsing Against an inclined keyboard Keys shadow'd by a darkness But new channels have been hew'd Flowing liquid won't settle Above the eyes as it should Won't submerge all kindly in The night's consuming shadows Rounded keys… Continue reading or: Tired
A tricube He came on hot and much too heavy. She froze fast beneath his cold, void gaze. Thick pungent odor was just not right. Tricube rules: Each line contains three syllables.Each stanza contains three lines.Each poem contains three stanzas.
A 'Waltz wave' heav- ing nau- se- a, head spinning from the booze, he slumped a- gainst the stall, retching onto the toilet lid and his loafers, pulled himself up and slipped on vom- it
The Skeptic's Kaddish 🇮🇱 
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