Dying Compass we travel as unthinking as clouds sailors with our skin rooted to the ship seashells loving the freedom brought of decay the sky and the sea weld together in our drift we are calm, of few emotions, both... Continue Reading →
Final Observation 1 There is no death for memories as long as they can be turned to stories 2 skin turns to things just recalled write down this which sticks out amidst ethers of numbness and forgetting sparks falling into... Continue Reading →
Inspiration Buffet: This week our buffet features two poems by Curtis Whitecarroll and a few photos by Katrin Baustmann. The Vulture by Curtis Whitecarroll Holding my stitches together well enough to write another poem I have made a mirror on... Continue Reading →
Poetry Breakfast 