Sailing with no port in sight
O’er a restless sea of blood,
Its smell does in you instil
The scent of slaughter,
Of gore and guts,
A harvest of flesh torn from
Battles barbarous, cruel and vile.
Assorted verse, analyses, opinions and instructions on how to improve the Multiverse.
Blog Archive
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2020
(145)
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August
(20)
- M.I.A.
- A Strange Man in a Strange Land
- Beat
- A Routine Doom
- Haiku #366
- Facing Ageing
- Haiku #365
- Snippet
- Haiku #364
- Two Subjects Do Not An Object Make
- Election Reform
- The Present Is Illusion
- Chronic Illustration
- Haiku #363
- Con Sequences
- Worshiping One-Eye
- Brains On Rails…
- Why Is This Still Necessary?
- Red Reaver
- Haiku #362
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August
(20)
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