Scattered Pixels #1

Poems and Prose #153 - Column

Preparing for the new year
in the middle of an old one,
I find myself frantically
searching my fridge for a cold one.

"Ah," I said, smiling,
as I reached out to hold one,
glad that I went to
my friend's house and stole one.

Poems and Prose #152 - Muzzle

Atavistic is
what they called him,
though they'd de-fanged
and declawed him.

Now his rage
comes off as maudlin;
I'm trying hard not
to reference Godwin...