passed a deer last night – not in the way you imagine though – no majestic forest king grazing in the overgrowth – ‘stead he was sprawled out like a burst sausage – there on the side of the road dead eye gaze – split scarred torn and broken – on a bed of dirt…
Tag: Death
Life: As Viewed Through a Lens
where will we turn when the sun hides when the tides roll in roll out wash the shore clean erasing our mark eroding as the grains slip through the glass shattered pieces scattered in all directions bellowing death wail perforating eardrums fall deaf eyes blind mind ignorant of our influence we’re all running treading water…
Piecework Prose 