The beaches are closed,
Waves of flesh-eating germs crash,
Remember sunscreen.
How does it work?
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.
More stories from George Zelinski and writers in Poets and other communities.
Medea’s Brew House, Braised entrails in newt eye sauce. They serve good coffee.
By George Zelinski6 months ago in Poets
You hold me where the water turns Black around the knees— not the crash, not the crest, but just underneath. Where every step is stolen ground,
By SUEDE the poet5 days ago in Poets
Introduction This is my eighth piece inspired by Justine G. Cappelli's beautiful artwork. This is a Strambotto inspired by the artwork rather than the actual legend
By Mike Singleton 💜 Mikeydred a day ago in Poets
The glass of Absinthe sat before me. It’s quite amazing how despite such terror rendered upon their stones in the preceding decades, these streets still held the beauty I first read about as a girl. I never dreamed I’d set foot on these cobbles, at least not safely.
By Matthew J. Fromm5 days ago in Art
Comments
There are no comments for this story
Be the first to respond and start the conversation.