Poetry No. 35 – Bryan D. Price

My animals are out We went to buy an angle grinder, the wheel as light as a cat’s paw. She wants to translate a chair. Give it a brand new life. Later that night— listening to the White Album in its entirety. Mixing wine with water like in the age of Cupid and Psyche. Like responsible humans not yet addicted to pain and its appetites. … Continue reading Poetry No. 35 – Bryan D. Price