Member since April 28, 2011 | 0 Readings |
M.E. is not a writer, but one who hears his voice better in the mind, while typing. He is a narrative therapist in southeastern Missouri and an avid starter of projects that never meet completion. His thoughts and poems are interchangeable.
Subscribed by M.E. Moore
I am whaling away at myself under the welcome desk and stealing jewelry from the plastic case. Fondling it like live dimes. Plunging the clicker as…
If, and when, / You remember / What you have / Not attended to, / Go. Or don’t. / Sit a spell. Wait / A while—it’s there / Yet : in…
The town has lost its bell / With its fathers inside— / / What then is the ringing at / This funeral? Possibly I am / / Not…
Eye of the Horse
To the fence / Comes a mass—muscle. / / Evening falling red / Unto purple fields, / Of black trees, from blue roads. / / Symbol of…
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