Thor Manchester Poems

Dickinson knows nothing of Eden,
Neither Wilde of symphonies.
Wild nights and immortality do not compare to what I can give you.
...

When day turns to dark,
When wishes are mine,
I dream of dreamers and butterfly-vines.
...

As she trudges through the veiled path,
frosty powder fills her jean cuffs.
Slowly and surely her freezing feet carve
prints to follow along the steeped bluffs.
...

I looked into his eyes and asked myself,
Is he a man?

I asked myself,
...

I wake up in the morning to a bomb.
Vibrating with thunderous clanking,
It fills my sound ears with napalm.
Pretty sure room 450 can hear it.
...

I must Obey it’s
every Command.
sun up to sun up
i must follow every Demand.
...