Blank...
Space...
Non-edited thoughts...
Long sleep in slow snow, banking to the right.
Begin again.
Again.
Repetition the illusion of familiarity:
Inbred dummy down clown.
Open.
Close.
open
CLOSE
o-clock tick-tock. One more stroke and you're f_cked.
Dimensions of dementia.
Dire warnings of futuristic wandering zombies
tagged for identification. If they turn nasty,
bring out the uzis.
Whose is
it? The responsibility for this anti-life
apocalyptic static...
blank... space...
open-shut
shoot
YOU ARE READING
No Turning Back
Poetry~ Some days, no matter how I stop up my ears, I still hear the bell's knell... ~ This book of poetry explores and exposes my personal struggle, as I witness an entire society turn its back to avoid seeing how its behaviour impacts our fragile, bele...
