jonathan-david-adkinsWhisper

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Child's PlayBlack man beating on drums, / the red on her hair like fire in my arms. / The wild child that I have been seeking has
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Mar 7, 2010
Chinaski“Mom, I’m not an idiot.” / She had been off her meds, / I could swear it.
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Mar 7, 2010
Drunken GuidesDrunken guides pour / Through the crowd / Like hunters to prey.
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Mar 8, 2010
LostMust I say that I am lost / The sun dripped fields have turned / Into waving trees and creaking limbs
26
Mar 14, 2010
MisconstruedI sit alone. / Half tempted to walk / across the room to eyes
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Mar 8, 2010
Miss LaundromatThere is a person you might have seen. / Her hair has streaks of gold / And a smile that is welcoming.
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Mar 14, 2010
Single MotherNever noticed me / Under her pink dye / And thick thighs.
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Mar 14, 2010
Spring BreakMy feet leave imprints in sand / as impressionable as the faces / I willingly glance,
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Mar 8, 2010
StrangersI see myself on their faces. / They walk the streets at night, / lit up by frail streams of light as they go.
28
Mar 14, 2010
Wouldn't Be the First TimeI sit / Feeling young and tired. / Tired of the steps,
25
Mar 7, 2010
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