top of page
  • Gary Hunter

Snorers - March 31, 2021


are braggarts

they say to the sleepless

I can even hum a tune

while I do it


Recent Posts

See All

the squeal of rubber rips the silence as a fast driver carves up the invisible night with an extended tortured note and skid marks when it stops I close my eyes wait for crickets to serenade the darkn

walking out my front door I’m assaulted by the awful stink of thousands of mango blossoms but oh what a miracle when they morph into handfuls then armfuls of ambrosia as if a hangover could turn into

look up some evening past the curiosity of night beyond the moon’s stare to the distant stars some that shine brightly here are cold black cinders there love too is a seen glow but how do we know if i

bottom of page