It’s daily The teeth Fingers Sand rakes? We have sand rakes? Stretching til a break Gnawing like a beaver Clawing like those buried alive seeking air. Big teeth Small hands Is that 30 fingers? 30? How? Grabbing Pulling Scratching My scalp is a burning patch….
Tag: Poem 9
Poetry Marathon Hour 9:
Alrighty – hour 9 with the prompt “hold this on your tongue” Poem 9: If you hold this on your tongue and let it dissolve like a fresh fallen snowflake two days before your birthday you will engrain this taste into your memory. …
Hour Nine – Definition Poem
The Dictionary.com word of the day for Saturday is paucity. Paucity When something is lacking or needing more when there is only a bit of any particular thing a deficit of dimes for the coin collector, a scarcity of snakes for the snake lover, a…