poem/vanyukov/satire

. Putin That’s, I’m sure, a vampire: Gnaws on bones, bloody-lipped. —A. S. Pushkin. “Vurdalak,” Songs of Western Slavs (Это, верно, кости гложет Красногубый вурдалак. —А. С.  Пушкин. “Вурдалак”, Песни западных славян) What’s in the mirror that you see? No bloody fangs, which would be fitting: you feed on corpses of your victims. You make them...

Read moreDetails
‘Coats’ by Stephen Ramsek

. Snowfall: Via Negativa “Less is more.” ---Literary Dictum Out on the highway, snow settles in place Covering the tracks the traffic has traced Blotting out edges, disguising the rough Burying the world in heaps of white stuff Obscuring the details of branches rimmed white With down-drifting flakes that fill...

Read moreDetails
Page 44 of 143 1 43 44 45 143

Receive Poems in Your Email

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,620 other subscribers