Song Warming Poems

These are prophetic poems and apocalyptic poems ...



The Vision of the Overseer’s Right Hand
by Michael R. Burch

“Dust to dust ...”

I stumbled, aghast,
into a valley of...

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It’s freezing in here
Why are you in short sleeves dear?
How is it I’m always cold?
And no I’m not that old!

Jump in the air
Not in the...

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Burn
by Michael R. Burch

for Trump

Sunbathe,
ozone baby,
till your parched skin cracks
in the white-hot flash
of radiation.

Incantation
from your pale parched lips
shall not avail;
you made this hell.
Now burn.

Keywords/Tags: burn,...

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