Poem Shards
 

A guy like that
after he has had a dream crushed
will maybe spend some time drinking.
He might end up along a bleak shore 
in a drizzle
with fallen leaves
wet and stuck to the van
too drunk to drive.
Put his keys on the ground
under the car.


🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌙 🌚 🌛 🌜 🌝. 🚤 🚥
🚦 🚧 🚨 🚩 🚪 🚫 🚬 🚭 🚮 🚯 🚰 🚱 🚲
🌛         
sometimes there is beauty within the fragments . . .
🌜🌜🌜🌝🌛🌛🌛 

Sprongg . . . onng . . . ongg ga

Her tired morning
seems more like poetry
than anything you can
find on a blog.


Bow Bow Bow


🌝 

 True Crime, LA: Oh, how weird the things we learn
What are the stories we tell?
Which are the stories we write?
A love affair in a dell
a dark and storied night?

It was a dark and storied night.

LA was just too grey
December in the rain.
A chill in the valley.
A bitter wind on the mountain.


🌜🌜🌜🌝🌛🌛🌛 
Here is a link
to a tasteful page detailing Miss Todd's gravesite,
complete with a photograph.
🌜🌜🌜🌝🌛🌛🌛 


 Bill Perilli, 
  of Natick, 
    is the
 writer of all
 of the things 
 on this blog.
🌜🌜🌜🌝🌛🌛🌛