spiritual

poetry by Lee Dunn

Ungrown

Lord of somethings, How does one who fixes us find a way in? Past facades, careful constructs, ego and id, scar tissue and regret, to bind an ungrown soul?

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poetry by Lee Dunn

My Man

hunch up those shoulders carry that hollow barrel chest on spindly trembling legs practice your ghostly motions stare obscenely out of eyes like yellowed olives your gates are closed for good and i stand holding you up listening to disconnected mutter while you piss black tar dribbling onto the floor and you say “I’m sorry” […]

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