After the Blackbird Sings
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The First StoneA Poem by After the Blackbird SingsFlushed fingers fit between my own, Ebbing between gentle slide and torrid pressure. Hands pull mine along, guiding to breasts, down sides, and ov.. |
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SoullessA Poem by After the Blackbird SingsIt's all visual and stuff... |
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I Am SmallA Poem by After the Blackbird SingsThe flames on the candle invite the hands of the clock to tea I am small. They'll bicker and argue And vote on the number of pages in a book they.. |
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The Holy FaithfulA Poem by After the Blackbird SingsI know she prays to God like a little girl before She crawls into bed and we worship, Suspecting all the while that thundercloud rider has been hold.. |
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In the Last Days I Feel the Breath of ResurrectionA Story by After the Blackbird SingsA weekend as a CNA in a nursing home. |
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Drift AwayA Poem by After the Blackbird SingsThe respirator breathing taps a kind of rhythm and poetry To this death Watching, waiting We're all coming to an end called "Stuck in the Mu.. |
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The Good LionA Story by After the Blackbird SingsTwo policemen search for the poetry in justice through their current case and in the tension of their competing styles. |
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