An occasional offering from a poet-adjacent human, usually something haiku-like. Or maybe something a little longer. Nearly always a bastardization of form. I usually recommend something by someone else, if that helps.
Or, a mind exploding in 17 syllables or less.
(Sometimes syllables can’t contain the shrapnel.)
If you can't wait, you can read the latest edition:
#1097 — Hi-Q Syllabys: October New Moon.
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