top of page
For All Those Lost Poppies
Log In
Blog
About
Contact
subscribe
All Posts
Search
we live as we die
Thomas Quin
Mar 23, 2024
1 min read
we live as we die,
wishing we weren't
Hopping The Turnstile
sheet metal bent backwards like contortionists in the circus trade the third avenue subway tricks my feet into floating tunnelling under...
Thomas Quin
Jun 21, 2025
1 min read
pottery class
like clay might hang when suspended by your ire sliced by two wires the wooden handle returns to the same place after you've cut through me
Thomas Quin
Jun 1, 2025
1 min read
Feathered Wings, Curl Around Me
Feathered wings, curl around me. Cradle my cotton skin So tightly in your bassinet, That no harm will ever come to me; Not again. Feed...
Thomas Quin
Mar 18, 2025
1 min read
bottom of page