Chicken

o
d
d
s

a
n
d

e
n
d
s

You Might Also Enjoy

How the Words Died

Fred Marchant

without heroism                /               guards falling asleep                /               a. . .

poems

Shelves

Iris Smyles

“I was having coffee with my subconscious. He was a peculiar looking man. Small, with a waxed mustache and crossed legs.

stories

Shelves

Iris Smyles

“I was having coffee with my subconscious. He was a peculiar looking man. Small, with a waxed mustache and crossed legs.

stories

Further Reading

Heads Up: We recently updated our privacy policy to clarify how and why we collect personal data. By using our site, you acknowledge that you have read and understand this policy.