A Foreign Affair

Loneliness has a colorful appeal, Let us call it red, parted maws, lonely from a journey to freedom instead, A relinquished mass of peoples juxtaposed, liberty sows not upon this troubled land, a promise not to the populace cram. I simply hope for the people’s choice Not as from Tiananmen Square, The lovers of none,…

Updated Poem

Upon the Cusp of Blackness’ Ride John Gregory Evans © 5/9/2020 12:01:04 PM Upon the cusp of blackness, we stare, I see a hope clinging to the everywhere, religiosity is an interior pull of white corpses walking, without purpose but to be saved through the mechanized wheel of traveldom, your misfortune, where dead bodies aspire…

On the Cusp of Blackness’ Ride

Upon the cusp of blackness, we stare, I See a hope clinging to the everywhere, Religiosity is an interior pull Of white corpses Walking, without purpose but to be saved Through the mechanized wheel of Misfortune, where dead bodies aspire to heal. As if a preacher man from the Right Conceals the truth together, tonight…