Stories and Poetry



Oldest, young shenaniganer, have you dreamt till you dream within dreams?

Have you spun your own gears for the newest of years?

Tip-toeing through eye-knowings and lost but still growing.

Is the bottom of tops what you fear?


Dear Ms. Chiefious,

I apologuys for the hihngs I have broken. For the tooths I have swallowed and the crime i have portured. For the twine I have settled and the connections I have baffled. For the muni I have fed to Mun’s knee. For the hearts I’ve jumped, for the negatives I’ve positived. For the many times, the icing missed the kake. For the few times I’ve floundered like a phish in jello water. For the memories I’ve caught with my neighbor’s knitted net. For the hungry glass that finished your water before you could catch the mime. For the bathwater, saltwater, that has flooded your mind. For “Dee”, all the above and drinking from a pitcher of time. For my emotion that is slightly darker than blue but inherently heaven true. For the cat scratch fever that is long overdue.

Yours truly,

Madamwahzell Maker

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