failing
to be a hunger artist
I stumble
around the mansion of words
from room to room
hunting poems to eat
crawling
out of the boarded up window
I am lucky to find
a thousand blank verses
dangling on the lower tip
of a crescent moon
Shot Glass Journal, 3
A Room of My Own: Butterfly Kite Tanka
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*Against the Drowning Noise of Other Words*, LVIII "Rafah's border wall"
the kids stare
beyond Rafah's border wall
the slow descent
of a butterfly kite
seve...