Poems from Keen
You ask me to read Tobit.
Walking an avenue of palms,
I see it tower in pink,
commanding, dominating, majestic,
with the winged creature...
A guy told me about a boy who read that a woodpecker's tongue was so long that it began at the nostril, wound all around the skull to the...
I am tapping out time near empty corridors hung with pretty pictures although old.
No one comes.
The code is out.
It escaped like snow...