red, white and meat

Thursday, 11 December 2014

#

December 2002 : Poetry Magazine
December 2002 : Poetry Magazine
Posted by main menu at 11:01:00
Email ThisBlogThis!Share to XShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest

No comments:

Post a Comment

Newer Post Older Post Home
Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

About Me

main menu
View my complete profile

Blog Archive

  • ►  2019 (1)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ►  2018 (3)
    • ►  May (1)
    • ►  February (1)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ►  2017 (9)
    • ►  August (3)
    • ►  June (1)
    • ►  March (3)
    • ►  February (1)
    • ►  January (1)
  • ►  2016 (18)
    • ►  September (3)
    • ►  August (2)
    • ►  July (3)
    • ►  April (2)
    • ►  February (4)
    • ►  January (4)
  • ►  2015 (75)
    • ►  December (5)
    • ►  November (5)
    • ►  October (4)
    • ►  September (7)
    • ►  August (5)
    • ►  July (4)
    • ►  June (6)
    • ►  May (4)
    • ►  April (5)
    • ►  March (10)
    • ►  February (9)
    • ►  January (11)
  • ▼  2014 (110)
    • ▼  December (14)
      • ...as far away from myself as I can go...
      • Strictly speaking I believe I’ve never been anywhere.
      • Irrealis moods
      • ##
      • diary of a paranoid
      • Deluding my confusion with the calm of the sunligh...
      • Nothing to remember !
      • A prayer if you squeeze your eyes.
      • ... nonequilibrium state ...
      • #
      • ...to glimpse the muse gliding below her lake o...
      • ...emotional sanctum ...
      • ...voyage through my reflection...
      • "" ""
    • ►  November (13)
    • ►  October (12)
    • ►  September (13)
    • ►  August (15)
    • ►  July (12)
    • ►  June (15)
    • ►  May (12)
    • ►  April (4)

Featured post

Cold may lie the day, And bare of grace; At night I slip away To the Singing Place.

Outside, leaves shaped like mouths make a black pool under a tree. Snails glide there, little death-swans. Robert Kipniss ...

Simple theme. Powered by Blogger.