559 Readings | 3 Ratings
What scuffle, what last laughable
scrum ensued, unstoppable zest of juvenile
zealots, their jostle and bump across
the field, sparring without reason.
You fell asleep on the couch / with your right arm / a crooked pillow, / your knees bent / so you only occupy / half a cushion. / / Your…
1 / / The tree is an arbiter that / aims to leave but lives to claim. / It runs the tab of a diehard drinker, / / stretching as it sinks;…
Barefoot by a stream, in white dresses / my sister & I dropped petals into the river. / / She said the current crafted a pattern— / …
(a cento of last words) / / Now comes the mystery / I have no power / To move my arms / Applaud, my friends / / I have no power / The…
More by Carol Peters
what if there were no large numbers / no millions, no tons / when did large numbers enter / our vocabulary / when was it not enough / to say one,…
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