pablo wrote with a blade that always cut twice once through muscle once through the soul sylvia wrote with a sickle that swept the chaff an uneven harvest ended in tragedy hank wrote with a half empty bottle one drink to remind him of the good times fifty to dwell upon the bad i write […]
another empty refrain another ode to need more words draped across her shoulders to shelter her from the manic dystopia that is life a thousand or more attempts at explaining the inexplicable the perfect convergence of beauty brilliance and breath taking wonder that she should see every single time she passes a reflective surface another […]
my first instinct is alliteration whenever a new mental hiccup begins to ferment there is always an alliterative gasp like mental gymnastics keeping the tip of the tongue limber most of the time it is erased some days i will write using every letter and forcing five word lines of similar sounds they are meaningless […]
Mike's Manic Word Depot 