a dilemma of
riches in tiny topaz
the art of language
only blog can make a tree
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a dilemma of
riches in tiny topaz
the art of language
a dilemma of
riches in tiny topaz
the art of language
“Read my poem? Please?”
In real life I’d get blank stares.
Here, you’re back for more.
Just over five months
This one four hundred fifty
Art or wasted time?
A haiku a day?
Not quite. Some days the tap runs,
some days it’s bone dry.
Headgear gone wild I
tip my hat to idiots
who have flipped their lids.
Reclaiming the word,
she grabs the bitch by the horns
and makes us all proud.
With all this trash talk
even the winner comes out
smelling like garbage.
see also Constant reader
Like a lover who
wanders I return here to
check in now and them
Today J begins
flying not yet a driver
the sky’s the limit
See democracy
happen. It happens if you
exercise your right.