Poems from ClaireMcMahon
I consider myself a wild thing; one that is only tamed through poetry.
"I never saw a wild thing feel sorry for itself." -DH Lawrence
Cigarettes and Angels
When an angel smokes a cigarette,
it’s a sign that no heart is too sacred to char black.
When the cursing red glow of...
Frost on lips
Shadows are eyes
With plastic ears and paper-maiche thoughts
Listen for fumes instead of the brushfires
“it’s just a bad...