I have decided to discontinue this poetry blog. It hasĀ been a great adventure! Thank you for reading.

Sincerely,

Tor Lee

THE FANTASY WAS PURE

The fantasy was pure

all

from

the moment

the incantation

skulled

a

way.

The commercial

end of things

too.

That’s

where

achievement

is the last stone

to keep

silent,

while

we

plot

goodness.

ONE MORE WONDERFUL

One more wonderful

crag

in the conspiracy

and I am wanderwalking

high

for the win

of kinsmanship.

There are no rosarias

up

here

where

the wind

is gardener.

And when we arrive

at the further wilderness

of human else,

even

the charred

remains of a satisfaction

that will serves

fate

is mossy

with new growth.

OR THE BASEBALL BAT

Or the baseball bat

beneath

my bedroom

manner, bedside

eyes,

is

gonna

get it. What’ll

it

be,

champion

or liberty?

SHE RAISED THE KITCHEN WINDOW

She raised the kitchen window

to let in the summer

air,

but

saw

there

was a hole

in the screen.

She stood there

considering

the sliver

which

would

let in mosquitos,

ants, small beetles,

spiders and

flies.

The breeze

tickled her neck

and the narrow island

of skin between her tank

top

and

shorts.