Flat streets, angelic blue eyes and faceted, clear minds.
We list, we ply. Drunk, presenting a smiling and
pleasant dance of maybe, yes let's, no not today, hesitant,
charming, panting, spring prance.
Enchanted fey-play, yes, but planting genuine
layered residence in a fragrance sought.
These seeds spin globes, and drop
the reticence, feed the playful,
artful passions, crescere the resonance,
and present a whole new world;
a melange of potent, lovely sense.
This is our poetic outlet. Two friends who grew up in Whitehorse, Yukon, Canada together now find the time to write poetry. Thelonious Janke and Andrew Buchan