poem thirty four.

bad batch of lids soda streams flow from soda rivers with mini icebergs melting and strewn on the floor of your favorite place global warming is in your backyard too

poem thirty one.

coldplay is drowning out the neighbors shouting screaming not coldplay but the neighbors muffled words garbled grumbles are a nightlight too bright coldplay is just right good night

poem thirty.

moving a million miles an hour to a sudden stop heart pierced by a glass wall and that one thought a rejuvenating breath shards in flight water rippling in reply to a stone exploding transparent as your emotions lay a heart on your...