Poetry, Writing

Cracks of the hours

Layered like the days I write,
slapping one on the other
when they are good and ready –
a fat Frenchman’s croissant.
Dew and sweat
and grit and greens,
pushing punctuation between
the cracks of the hours.

~AB


Rose is a rose is a rose is a rose
Loveliness extreme.
Extra gaiters,
Loveliness extreme.
Sweetest ice-cream.
Pages ages page ages page ages.

~ Gertrude Stein

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