https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/A celebration of short poems, for those who want a quick literary fix. hourly12000-01-01T12:00+00:00https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/532501count your syllables like claps of thunder or hands zen state will follow —Sarah Torribiohttps://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/532256your face shifts when flames lick summer shadows: rabid cat rabbit's scream Rudolph Valentino Saddam Hussein how do I look when flames lick my summer shadows? —Sarah Torribiohttps://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/531874I've glimpsed my wretched future and it's death by minotaur. I mask my fear with food and sex and songs by Pat Benatar. —Sarah Torribiohttps://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/530605king of debonaire play with Newton's gravity your moves need no laws —Sarah Torribiohttps://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/530383I fall off my high heels and into your arms. The red of my lipstick gives off an alarm. You give me a look like a hound on the scent. And I, easy prey, take your hand and the hint. —Sarah Torribiohttps://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/528960I kissed you behind the dovecote to the sound of cooing doves. You said, "My dear, what better place to confess undying love?" I married you near the beehives, to the hum of that droning choir. We toasted with their nectar, then threw our mugs on the fire. We made love by the plashing pond— that...https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/527764Curious habit, hiding Loneliness with a painted grin. Out with the real you— With sad times and smaller shoes. Now hang up your suit. —Sarah Torribiohttps://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/527762Dance your fingers through Rose petals gilded by Eros himself (eternal Valentine!) And then, wash them in Madras silk, until they Shine like star-kissed eyelids —Sarah Torribiohttps://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/525659I am a scared white rabbit, fleeting and pink of eye. Gravity hunts me like prey; I clutch grassblades and gape at the sky.https://www.blogit.com/Blogs/Blog.aspx/stbond4866/523031The ocean is really a terrible slob, says the part of myself that's a bit of a snob. It throws blackish-green tangles of weed on the sand, while its breath—brackish, fishy—envelops the land.