( poem | sonnet | epicpoem | happypoem )


A saint flowing from a lush lover 
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A priestess extinguishes my sky of joy! 
The knives howl terrifyingly, restlessly. 
Why, why are the elves foul? 
The desert stretching beyond a sinuous werebeast behind the serpent dreaming of a unknown sister exploits me. 
Did I so recently laugh? 
In the garden, after the rain.
 
Brad WyrdWulff

See jbrowse.com for the original code. The online version available there has been throwing a 500 for some time now, hence this page.