Adam was sick. He lay in bed with the duvet pulled up over his head feeling very sorry for himself. Adam had chicken pox….He was bored out of his mind.
From poetry to prose and everything in between
Month: July 2019
Cold I have a cold I cannot breathe These germs have got it in for me. My nose is raw My eyes are wet Just…
A naked girl, a caravan,
A snake with just one eye,
An armful of rare orchids..
Tell me…
Can a bullfrog fly?
…And trapped inside their rules they stay
And die a little more each day,
And soon forget they’d ever been
More than a hating, lie machine….
Deep down,
Deeper than doubt,
Deeper than love,
Deeper than everything.
Cold and still.
Here little fishy.
Wrap me up inside your cool flesh.