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...