Chapter 8 of the 67 Yoshi kingdom—The 67th Move

The 67th Move The air in the maximum-security prison, known colloquially as “The Stone Maw,” was perpetually thick, a stew of damp concrete, stale sweat, and the acrid, lemony sting of industrial-grade disinfectant that never quite masked the deeper, more organic odors of despair. It clung to the skin, a second, grimy uniform. High above, … Read more

5 Poems about School

1. The First Morning The backpack bulges, much too large, A new, stiff shoe untied. A wave that builds, a looming charge, With parents at your side. The doorway is a giant’s mouth, The hallway, a long mile. You navigate your way due south, And try hard not to smile. Until you see, upon the … Read more

Random Poem

When morning tiptoes, soft and gray, And night begins to flee, The silent dewdrops learn to play Upon the waking tree. The sun, a painter, dips his brush In gold and rose and flame, To color forth the thrush’s thrush And whisper every name— The name of every leaf unfurled, Of every blade of grass, … Read more

The Rustbucket King 🤴 —A Greenflagworthy story

Part 1: The Rustbucket King Tank was a man built of spare parts and stubbornness. He was broad-shouldered and thick-chested, with a welding mask permanently pushed up on his forehead like a steel crown. His kingdom was the “Sanctuary,” a scrapyard fortress of stacked cars and corrugated metal that hummed with the quiet industry of … Read more

Poem for Today’s Dubbing Contest

A Tale of Tank, Steve, and Dylan The stage was set, the screen was clear, A contest where we conquered fear. The video played, a silly sight: A goose was typing in the daylight. His homework waited, page half-done, Beneath the cheerful, morning sun. Then Steve began, with honk and tone, A gander’s mutter, gasp, … Read more