alex-p-garaWhisper

American
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BelladonnaWerewolf stood in front of a puddle. / Four inches deep. Maybe. / Werewolf looked away.
33
5.6k
The Last Street SweeperTo the last street sweeper on the eve of the apocalypse / Whose life partner is beauty / Who makes more sense in a minute of listening
33
2.3k
poniesMy old man used to take me to the track / Showed me how to key the top horse / Sprinkle in some long shots, he’d say
32
2.1k
my type: writermy type breathes ink / pressing said ink against sky / holds it, sticks it, stains it
38
1.5k
the differenceback in the day / when our heads were rocks / and our hearts were origami
15
1.3k
...but who's countingRemind me, please / Write me one more letter / One like letters 16 through 53
89
1.2k
Darkness? Shiiiit.Shiiit / Maybe it’s just us / Maybe we’re not playing the game right
39
1.1k
big skyfragile cloud streaks / stroked by summer's dried brush / sunlight is September
8
940
big skyfragile cloud streaks / stroked by summer's dried brush / sunlight is September
8
838
dying slowly (ten word poem)jigger blood / pumping neatly / only an ounce
4
738
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