sensory poetry
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Heart’s on a plane
That folded in two
Make you know my name
It’s foreign to you

Heart’s on a plane
And I’d no clue
It’s crashing again
Into the foreign blue

Alive is the man
Who burns into
Ashes and sand
At the rendezvous

Between the cracks
And the holes, too
At will, he stands back
And sees both views

Eager minds make
Eagers hearts take
Every part of
Every mistake
Considerate eyes,
Cigarette ash,
Stumbling back,
And crashed upon
And on and on and on again

The priests were in shame
And the old nuns knew
The reason for their name
Was foreign, too

It’s always the same
Time, she remains
Searching for a miracle
Well, isn’t it nice to
Feel the light through
My morning window

It’s nice to know
That it goes on and on again
On and on and on again
On and on and on again
On and on and on again



photograph by Elijah Hail


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Sandy Dodge

Sensory writing for making sense of the nonsensical. My two cents are your free samples.

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