Strange workings These days The inner Twisted to outer Painted with lies They no longer smile No need to hide True intentions For we are
Through these caverns An echo mourns The passing of a life Wrought with hope And the illusion Of significance A wordless meaning Left hanging on
The char on the inside Doesn’t go away Tattooed and scarred Although the bleeding Stopped, years ago The ache remains I scrape at it A
i’m about done with all this constant need for knowing incessant dissection of the absurdity spinning around and through me elaborated constructs of meaning in
Potter’s Grove Press is happy to announce the release of – A Declaration of Our Rippling Days by Eric Keegan. Available in eBook and paperback.
The old man satLegs crossed, foot bouncingThe blinds were drawnSummer heat screamingFrom the warped floorboardsYou could see the dust, each particleFloating in faint strips of