Her castle is a canyon; her feather bed is a rocky crevice, sweet and hidden as the truth she keeps in feet that pad upon the earth, ears that know the smallest sounds, life that accumulates beneath the nails of her lethal, inscrutable claws.
Author Archives: amyjasek
Peter Rabbit
Peter Rabbitmunching a snack out on the lawnPeter Rabbitburrowing, as is his habit,trespassing to dig holes, whereonI chased him off, so now he’s gone.See ya, rabbit. A little rondelet based on a true story. Thank you for reading!
Wonderspaces
In the next room, a galaxy strung up
becomes an immigrant face at distance,
but only at a certain distance, seen
from a specific vantage point, well marked.
Stand here if you would behold my visage;
from every other point of view, I am
a mess.
Prologue – Dominic
Originally posted on The Hermit Crab Tank:
Three people stood under the weak light of a streetlamp. The first was a tall young man who stood in a shabby black overcoat with a back straight as a rod. His short, dark hair was combed across his forehead, and each of the features on his long…
June Challenge
It’s a new month! In celebration of this, I have set myself a challenge of writing in 15 different poetic forms, spending 2 days on each one.
Waking Dream
Was it sleep,
when these ancestors braved to part the veil,
delivering an almighty reply
past and present uniting future,
as it is now and ever shall be
After
He has seen things
he wants to tell us but
the words won’t come
they get hung up on the way out
snagged on the bits of wire
holding his thinker together
Coyote, 1
From the silence of the desert night
someone shook coyote awake
Paris Postcard
If I sent you a postcard
from the Tuileries
a real old-fashioned lick-stamp affair. . . .
Ode, to Coffee
Oh hallowed nectar, rich and capped in white!
Strongest cup of daily refuge. . . .
The Poetry Patio 