We take poetry seriously, but we also like to have fun and hope you will too!
Support PostPoems
 July sky is the colour of wheat slate. No one here cares about rockets over the Atlantic. We have our own holes in the ground. ... [read more] |
 When I look around at the world we’ve created… unfortunately I see… hatred, cruelty, deception, greed and dishonesty trying and succe... [read more] |
|
The clockwork stammers at the entry line. I take the hammer to the iron year and strike the hinge before the shadow falls. If... [read more] |
|
to the maker of moves The watchman's eye up high beholds their game, They try to read and l... [read more] |
|
Don’t Forget Our Number Their modern math began to fade, Re‑wiring lines that history made. They count their steps through six–seven... [read more] |
|
"Front Desk, 9/11” The catalogue lies opento Chair 47B,its diagram promising lumbar certaintyin a world that has justcrumbled in on i... [read more] |
 Man, it's hot Hot is cool Heat is in Is in tents Heat is tense Chill out heat In heated tent... [read more] |