For breakfast I eat up my vowels, my a e i o u, to which I add from consonants a fricative or two;
After that I move my bowels then write as poets do, and frequently am quite surprised to feel a trill come through.
Showing posts with label Circe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Circe. Show all posts

Sunday, 3 April 2011

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What a Circe is Fortune
.
to turn us into beasts
..
and wheel us through our seasons
...
as Time upon us feasts.
....


Posted by Köy Deli at 05:17 2 comments
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