SPOILS OF THE 46TH DAY: 5 ONE-LINE PROSE POEMS

 46.5

There are two sides to this minuscule, free pen of mine; the one with the long, crooked name on it is a razor: trigger warning.

46.4

We sit and watch algorithms turning vast oceans of screaming voices into minuscule, often invisible specks on a screen; dust motes longing for light, all of us.

46.3

Sugar high addict goes for poetry then recoils; the naked mind is seldom pretty.

46.2

New hagiographies always demand that none but the works of thoroughly sanitized saints be benedicted as miracles; perfunctory poetry only.

46.1

No long-syllable serpents dare glide in the shallow pond of screen-deep words; a la-la land for the etymologically incurious.