rhyme – Jordyn Saelor

Bad Apples/Puns

If you threw your phone across the room, well, that apple’s phlone, far from the tree, with its smelly feet, you know I gotta rhyme feet with feat and be proud of that feat

“If you stand for nothing, you will fall for anything” might be why I fall for your glow every time I walk into a room, hello, sunshine, the seasons are in bloom but I’m terrified of what lurks deep below, will you take my hope in the dead of night and marry her to theContinue reading “Before the Storm”

exhilarate/annihilate/landscape of a heart

please describe yourself, in as many words as you like, our words are boxes, so check all of them or just one of them

Wrists in the Blissful Sea

Literal literary list:

miss the analysis kiss the lysis alyssum alyssis ask asylum assist us — Nonsense-san decrees: I can’t give you the happy ending first, it will completely confuse you,

Freezing Rain

There’s pretzels outside. Dipped in clear chocolate, hanging low over creaking snow. The crunchy candy’s layered thick, inviting a thirsty lick, a cold touch crackles it breaks the pretzel salt on the sidewalk sprinkled for freshly baked branches.

Precious Crumbs

That moment when you wake from a nap and try to count the minutes you were out by the number of pins and needles in your feet–is it only your tired brain that can’t peg a number on

The Humans Whom Humanity Failed

If you distill the universe to one soul, bottle up every experience and shake it up–who would you have?

Do you sleep with the lantern on?

You write by lantern light late at night no clock to tell the time. — It’s so quiet, the buzzing in the walls has died. — the lamps across the street are on. So I think we will be okay, won’t be stranded on our remote-less island for too long. — Youtube addiction? Nah, it’sContinue reading “Do you sleep with the lantern on?”

Whence the Waters Wailed

Flighty fingers hold the key to the pit in my gut where I bottle all my resentment. You know what you said, bedhead, but I pretended

don’t tell dada ’bout the doggie door

What a deranging display of pointless perfidiousness, superfluous insidiousness, what plainly prattling perfidious pomps these two children are, all persnickety and rickety making a racket with their wickets in the croquet thicket,