Category: Poem

The Taco John’s employs a woman, her thick body a prayer, with wild tatoos and a friendly smile, who is a neighbor. She uses the

A millions tears, aThousand feet below the lake so deep A thousand miles from home no longer home.Sentenced as to darkness isolation in a crowded

Поздрави То бедн пенсионерство,В пустине пусть квартира,Тонкий так старще рука старецНикогда прикасалЕдва заметил. Безумство нападит сне, на психолого-немощ, вЗемлятряса дущ, уничтожить всё,Стекл, конкретГлубоко внутрь надрыв,Бог

Modern DayOn the quad, the graduate library stands years old-crisp in the air with gothic architecture stone veins statues rise vertical with copper aqua roof

Time is just a shell described and scrawled a pencil compass arc, a circle route outside apartment buildings, inhabited or thoughts, with notioned circle steps

Hans Sigurd Lillegard is Marquis Who’s Who listee who has published in Midwest Literary Magazine, Julien’s Journal, Real Change, Story Star, Nebraska Writers’ Guild ‘Voices

Some have seen degrees of lightSpark the thoughts toGrapple with white possibility. In an evening’s incandescencePartly masked as are miragesA delicate fluttering thing thatLeaves thoughts

Lost to paper and emptied on a line, Ther come to exist and trail behind intent in angry slashes. Joyful curve creations slithering a signed,

Библиотека Курить одном сигареты,Возвратить на камены простерты наГвард и пол предо библиотеком.Газет, табак, свирить. Бездомец углубит книгом тогдаОбратно улицам курить, раз опятьВыбросен табак дым сосать,Бедняки