There's a little boy in the corner of my brain with his nose against the wall.
Four big letters spell out down the front of his cone-shaped hat.
DUNCE
More by wph
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Do you feel your head unspooling into the universe?
The strings are fraying at the edges,
irreparably stained with the stardust at the ends
Of the many worlds you stretch across.
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Sacred Holy Dream
Yes, Alice thought as she drifted deeper into sleep from within that lightless and beautiful place, make it stranger now. Make it all new again.
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Beauty in the Dark.
My very favorite poem is an inarguably terrible one. I do not know its name and do not care to find out if it has a name.
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