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- The Great Excavation
- coming out in no particular order
- This town; a breathing crocodile, is a sad town…
- My grandfather on a sandglass
- what the little girl meant to say when the long-haired journalist asked: where are you from?
- The man who wrote bad poetry
- The dilemma of a poem
- a poem you read from right to left
- The federal constitution
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- coming out in no particular order eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2019/04/18/com… 18 hours ago
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Tag Archives: Pippa Little
one sleeps under cobwebs one drinks gall one wastes away to voicelessness one longs for deliverance one hopes for the spider one remembers singing one dreams of trains one of rope one of a revolver Pippa Little was born in … Continue reading
My pilot father lies in the tree-canopies of Java moth-wings silk and rotting now his cradle but I come from another country low and sorry his engines stumbled channels open to the drowned, their frequency swelling the echo pedal no white noise … Continue reading