Monday, May 2, 2016

Sunken Storm

you trust
pure desertness
squeezed storms
treeless summers
up dunes
ruddy moon dust-
preserves eye dust.

you prevent
the slender lotus
to woody end
dust frost on every
tormented forest.

downpours tempt
your poet well,
very seldom
you express toll wonder,
yet you know
no purpose for
world people.

Source: Austin, Mary Hunter. “The Land of Little Rain.” The Land of Little Rain. Web. 2 May 2016.

And here is the last prompt from The Found Poetry Review. This was to take a text and run it through the phone number constraint on applied poetics. I used 867-5309 not because was already there, but I planned on already using it since it has to do with my name. You can read the full prompt here

 And I drop the mic...

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