Deuce Ex Machina
…And my inner child’s none too sparky about it neither but I went to write my grandfather a letter last week and Candy is down, shamefully, down due to neglect.
Author: P.S. Lorcan
The Locksmith
You said, Moonboots & spacesuits
ain’t never made a man— True, however
Nia said, Whosoever would be, alas,
done already had at least one
Muse clad in cowboy boots n’ denim
Is The Sky
My father is the fisherman
Vassal of Poseidon’s tides
Older than Ulmo, older than Nereus
He is The Depths of the primordial seas
Coven Tree
The trick as Witch is to work Magic & not disappear, The trick as Host is to be at your own party
Sylvia’s Longbeaux
I shall de-
sire you of more acquaintance,
Good Master Cobweb…
A Jumper’s Prayer
Each with a 33
contrarily tucked under their curling tails
for the Quadrupling quarterstitch
The LOON
So, Where is it then
My silvertine friend
She said to a raven
She said to a loon
Dear Art,
Dear A.I., How many times may a mind like mine be safely blown because I blow my mind every day and I’m thinking about going back to school…
Rescheduling Breakfast In America
Thank goodness for all the drive-throughs and truck stops and the serendipity of a squeaky clean and shiny taco truck rolling up alongside.
Tea Time with Nia
a clock over the mantle and a clock over the kitchen, the rest of the house oblivious to time but for the paint cracking outside,