[tabby title="Poet Bio"] Tulip swaggered across savannah, genuine love lounged at delta, lagoon blues made frantic plea, on rocky plains, their chalice nestled. Curve and edges spoke of her origin, tall and slender trumpeted his, till labour ceased on moorish...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] Twisted candles And shifting patterns Bring no cymbals Nor trumpets nor drums There’s never a good dance to this wretched song There’s only painted gongs Enthroned in places of filtering tongues Ordering preached rhythms of the supposed...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] It was like this on the day before this day: we peered ourselves in the faces as we sat and spoke of little things of many things and spoke of many things of little things. We spoke...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] one sudden saturday, when the verdant sky had its translucent light god woke, aroused, groggy from creation and craving the luscious feel of masculine touches he creates, in his own image, for his sexual orgies a man,...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] Grandmother, how do I tell a murderous act with a heart more evil than that of Lady Macbeth, without the whimpering soul of a Duncan? What Tiresias can interpret the mysteries in his palm? That in the...