Category Archives: Edgar Allan Poe

Poe Vs. Cicadas

Was it these goddamn August cicadas Poe heard ring the thin moon all night against the high-pitched sky, or just fucking tinnitus?

Posted in Art is lies, Art is theft, Cicadas, Edgar Allan Poe, John MacKenzie, Micropoetry, New poems, Poem tweets, Poetry, Summer, Tanka, The Moon | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment