Danse Macabre 17
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But you can find the latest issue of your favorite online literary magazine. DM at Poets and Writers.
8230;From the town where I was born,. Has driven my destiny,. The town which I have lost,. My glance is greeting me in my dreams. Vom Dorf, drin ich geboren,. Trieb weit mich das Geschick,. Das Dorf, das ich verloren,. Grüßt jetzt im Traum mein Blick. Ripped from the safety of earth. Aunched at warp speed into deep space, I brace myself against the thrust. The conversation in the control room, already fragmented into squeals and clicks by static, is consumed by the raging roar of rocket engines.
No self-respecting literary magazine, esp. one celebrating its 20th gala issue, should be without immortal music.
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Danse Macabre 17DESCRIPTION
This is a cautionary tale. Beware of Stick Men. You cannot hear their bones rattle when they walk. You cannot see their darkness when they talk. Coffee will not satisfy them. Where they feed is desolation. The Stick Man probed the edge of her mind. It was a delicious crispy cookie, fresh from the oven. Hi, I havent seen you here before. Welcome to the family. He leaned toward her, his voice soft, approving, very different from Jeffs. Could the dingy surroundings reflect the spirit of their owner?CONTENT
This web page thedansemacabre17.blogspot.com states the following, "You cannot hear their bones rattle when they walk." We saw that the webpage said " You cannot see their darkness when they talk." It also said " Coffee will not satisfy them. Where they feed is desolation. The Stick Man probed the edge of her mind. It was a delicious crispy cookie, fresh from the oven. Hi, I havent seen you here before. He leaned toward her, his voice soft, approving, very different from Jeffs. Could the dingy surroundings reflect the spirit of their owner?."SEEK SIMILAR DOMAINS
8230;From the town where I was born,. Has driven my destiny,. The town which I have lost,. My glance is greeting me in my dreams. Vom Dorf, drin ich geboren,. Trieb weit mich das Geschick,. Das Dorf, das ich verloren,. Grüßt jetzt im Traum mein Blick. Ripped from the safety of earth. Aunched at warp speed into deep space, I brace myself against the thrust. The conversation in the control room, already fragmented into squeals and clicks by static, is consumed by the raging roar of rocket engines.
An online journal of imaginative verse and prose dedicated to the magical, the ethereal, the supernatural, the dark, the absurd, and the unknown. Tuesday, October 31, 2006. Sunday, February 26, 2006. Late in the year, farmers weave haystacks tight;. Then when a globe moon drifts up seas of night,. No one of menace speaks,.
No self-respecting literary magazine, esp. one celebrating its 20th gala issue, should be without immortal music.
Sunday, December 17, 2006. Chocolate marshmallow and Nut candy. of milk and dark chocolate, 1 lb. Friday, December 8, 2006.
Torch songs of indigo fire;. When a Sabbath breeze fingers your cheeks,. Otis Redding rings even deeper. Inside the satin holes pocking. The thought of another pubescent staircase. Knocking fall snow off my shoes. I skid across the marble floor. The gym- -concert hall tonight- -. Smells like it did forty years ago. Once we were many,.