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Book of Hours

Book of Hours For an infinite secondthere are two of her; a bathing suited twinhovers over shifting rippleslike a saucy double exposure. Bullets of light shoot holesthrough skin—piercing herdoppelgänger in lunch hours blaze. The watery canvas dissolves;waves distort her gapingmouth – threaten to devourmy parched eyeballs. ©️Orion Foote, 2023

Dreaming Volumes

Dreaming Volumes Hardy snorts the glacial air;finds morning’s first brew prosaic.Last night’s jottings petered out,leaving his middle ear in two minds. No good harping on with old hatsor yesterday’s retro headlines.Those flash new chaps with theirclever tunes make his eyes water. He storms out to the sycamorewith his latest missive &bellows at shit faced poets,Continue reading “Dreaming Volumes”