PenguinAttack

Take this; As Though I am You First time in a suit, hands folded careful and still across his chest, thumbs locked together. I wanted to touch him, smooth my ...

You should clearly write one about me now.

For my Masters work, I had it saved on a USB, WriterfeedPad, sent to myself in emails, sent to other people through emails and then, most importantly for me, I ...

This is not a poem This is a word - a word inside a sentence inside space. I want to deconstruct – reconstruct but I work letters in my mouth ...

This is not a poem This is a word - a word inside a sentence inside space. I want to deconstruct – reconstruct but I work letters in my mouth ...

Pretty Bad I cluster stars in myths I wish had happened; Elephants' fighting tusks clashing over waterways, the wind collecting eyes on the way to the south, you and I ...

Sabre of the South Thylacine stripes echo of past scratches biting deep skin and thick black blood messing through sandy fur. I want to ask, tiger nose, do you love ...

Noooo mooooore poaaaaams

Poetry Recital Audy slit my tongue in two words sliding by the gap into my throat, I am surrounded by her, the image of sound reverberating into my lungs and ...

Spiderwebs I see the way you spin little threads that stick into my hair and eyes and mouth./ suffocate here, again and again waiting for the tremour of your legs ...

A line each from Lette, Audster, Nah and myself. The Adventures of Irony like despair, she sits sprawled upon the window seat watching the moon chase the sun into shadow, ...

Scarlet Locks Breath reflection slinks against the mirror of your mother's room, again you have missed the lipstick crossing your cheek and the print of your lips against the frame ...

Meshugenah (wait, really?) Like loquacious nights lingering on the mantle of your garden statues, the man waits against the shadow of a wall and brick pavement. His neck bends so ...

Where Dem Boys At Srsly I like the sound of your vowel, he said to her one evening. We watched the movement of her fingertips to her hair and crowed ...

At the Stop The stand is cold grey under mist where we wait, marble statues and I look into your eyes across the long tiled street. There you are a ...