Three poems by Joel M. Toledo
Ruin And before the end comes, the complete corrosion of all things beautiful, what calls us back to dust and the fine delicate things under rocks, the solemn quarters of the dead, or the believing children who simply cannot resist looking at the sun, curious about the circle behind the wide glare presiding over the world, the price of temporary blindness that panics them … Continue reading Three poems by Joel M. Toledo