the dial hums halfway between proselytic gibberish and the morning news and i hear...
By Rida Khalid
The wait
Poetry
I painted my fingernails this morning.
They look even fresher under the traffic lights. Right now,
There’s nothing but the whizz of my car
And the bellowing echoes of my thoughts.
It’s raining.
A pitter patter of summer monsoon
Handpicked
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It’s nine already. You have three and a half hours today – to do anything, be...
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She held the patient eye of the poet gazing into an impossible future across oceans...
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In case of emergency pick the thread out from between your teeth bite your tongue until it...
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The 90s Kid
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Misgar
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