Maybe I’m a hungry poet, but I won’t bite.
Silhouettes instead of shadows,
countenance instead of face,
immaterial, trivial,
hyacinth, rendezvous,
alternative, nemesis,
eternal, evilness,
nothingness for me, for you . . . .
these words hang in the air through
the years like seedless manna
sprayed by empty floating bards.
Maybe I’m a hungry poet
But I won’t bite.
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!