Never have we seen a day as dismal as today,
shuddering rain of contempt,
on ours paths of concrete and subversion,
we soak in the mists of our mentors; delusionary stories,
traced with anthrax & disdain.
Traditions and séances
help us achieve Nirvana.
Author: WILDsound Festival
Submitters reactions to their feedback on their stories. New testimonials coming each month!
Watch this month's winning readings. At least 15 performances a month:
www.wildsoundfestival.com
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www.wildsound.ca
My Joseph My JAM, Poetry by Adrienne Miranda
A beautiful morn at 6:07, a precious angel came down from heaven; he quickly encountered the awe of the room; he stole my heart after embracing my womb.
