Voices That Speak of Dread

I walk with voices that speak of dread Surviving death blows inside my head All the while my feet are beckoning…   Stu… stut…stuttering aimlessly Splitting tongues with knives Reeking of poison confirming my lies   I make a sign of the cross and pray for souls That killed all men who dared to be…

Old Man On a Country Road

An old man, stooped and tottering through the snow. He holds his collar close. Stars twine his eyes and sicken his stomach, a flash convulsion grips his throat. With heated ears, chest heaving, his heart drags with stress. He wears no hat, no gloves, just a tattered, long grey overcoat. He leans forward under the…