from "Poems People Liked (2)" on Amazon/Books

 The agony that peoples

such tormented heights

convulses in stone-breath.


The outward semblance

swells in neat conformity,

the lower thump of blood

curdles inside its chilled contraction.



Sensing outcrops, pale, limp wheat-blades

whitening beside the agonising certainty of beasts,

teethes like a fleshless jaw.


I hold my head up 

out of practice.

I perfect the stance.


The agony confronts me.



group in their rigid surveys

Global Scriggler.DomainModel.Publication.Visibility
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