Dr Homut

Dr Homut

That stiffly buttoned white coat,
those eyes so cold and cut-throat.

No leather latitude could quell
unseemly feeling thus remote,
or clever platitude dispel
the fear of here, and then to tote.

Made numb, the mirror interposed
the place to spit, to speak, to tell,
now pull those bloody champs of hell,
and let the others rest enclosed.


Festival Planning: A Focus on Staging

Festival Planning: A Focus on Staging

Short Story: Second Chance

Short Story: Second Chance