Tags » Squeal

A Revenge Screw

The fan’s aura is rusty, flakes from a decaying screw sprinkled its frame as I turned it on. The fan wails during thunderstorms, thunder muffled through spinning blades, no fear of lightning vibrations for the deaf, hell, it’s a God song they ought to sing. 88 more words


Still in the cold steel

Life stirs and speaks squeals and squirms

Even from I beams

Haiku Poetry


Kong roars on the screen

I squeal like a teenager.

The monster is back.

Kenton Penley Miller