To flood, with vowelling embrace, a page agape at my pen’s impudence, is to leave wounds of words upon its face, carved with the sharp and flat of consonants. Blood is ink dried in thirsty lines and margins, annotated stanzas, editor’s cut and thrust. All the while my stack of notebooks burgeons, shrouded in poetry […]
Day: April 12, 2018
They only come out at night…
ticking a tune like flicking teeth on a comb in the shadows of the mangroves: Technicolor crabs wielding lethal-looking purple claws at the ends of blood orange legs; peering with jack-o’-lantern eyes. They are benign eco warriors, leaf and seed collectors, feeders of the forest, unseen Costa Rican jewels of Halloween. Kim M. Russell, 2018 […]
Broadway
The show is over. Darkness settles on seats with a reverent hush. Outside, hum and sparkle limp towards dawn. Late night bars exhale alcohol clouds and taxis zip along Broadway, bright yellow sharks. daffodils bow heads the show must come to an end buds burst in applause Kim M. Russell, 2018 My response to Carpe […]
writing in north norfolk 