Best Mounted Poems

Butterfly on a limb
you hide your prideful
red and yellow trim.
A brief exposure
then it's over,
wings shut like a door—
you dare to show me no more!
You’ll learn what nets
and killing jars are for.

My captive beauty,
I’ll squeeze your throat
and pin your silk kaleidoscope
beneath glass
against the board
survived by your...

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The anti anatomy of an anarchist is neither an amateur nor an animation. But wheeling a whirring wind is a window wiper moving at over sixty inches per second. Secondary to circumference is a dough dome roaring. Roaring is to be measured in octave which...

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