kevin-mannWhisper

American
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NovemberIt's November again. / Old men mount bicycles, / wobble down cobblestone,
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FallFor me, / flying is a bit like faith, / a willful suspension of disbelief.
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milk lustTwo small boys stand in the forest, / huddled around the burning husk / of an old go-kart.
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Still LifeSummer night, heavy with humming: / static hisses from tree hollows, / crickets tick in the garden.
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The Devil, He's HereCheck the details. / Next time you see a tree / look only at the edges
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MomentumOn nights like these, when I am pulled by the sky / and the mist drags in from the marsh, / I take to the glittering, empty streets
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NauseaIt is so very dark in the ark. / Forgive me Lord for I am afraid. / This lack of light has begun to burn
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Death is a hallwayWhen you die / you walk on, shoeless, / your only light a nightlight,
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November BlewI haven't seen the sun / since the summer you left me. / I've been sliding
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Reluctant HeroI. / I wish to be birthed / in reverse.
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