Frozen
in a verse that whispers rhymes and rhythms to itself
verses and musings of j stoeckmann, all rights reserved.
in a verse that whispers rhymes and rhythms to itself
so overwhelmed by this verse, the interior is so mysterious, even more beguiling, love it
on a back porch in a magic valley
a moment with chocolates and a single barrel
Life can be so Nabokov
Tears of amber frozen safe our heart’s a treasury
tikis and nazis, hoodies, burkas, Bannon’s canons, on both sides?
Yawning for what? I forget
Busted party in my mouth the neighbors called it in
Laugh at an old joke
posterizing our despair