The Last Bender, Chapter 12
CHAPTER TWELVE At first my eyes felt like smashed oysters. The soft inside all mixed up with the shell. Slivers of light noisily never aligned. My mouth full of blood...
Read MoreCHAPTER TWELVE At first my eyes felt like smashed oysters. The soft inside all mixed up with the shell. Slivers of light noisily never aligned. My mouth full of blood...
Read MoreManerly Margery Mylk and Ale Ay, beshrewe yow! Be my fay This wanton clarkis be nyse allway. Avent, avent, my popagay! “What, will ye do nothing but play”...
Read MoreCHAPTER ELEVEN Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â On the way home I drank a half gallon of warm tonic water and twisted through the dial in search of something besides cooking...
Read MoreLang Po and its descendents are the poetic equivalent of the Progressive, Jazz/Rock fusion music of the 1970’s. They are the Emerson Lake and Palmer of the poetry...
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