Maxwell Ryder > Writing | WritersCafe.org | The Online Writing Community

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If Jesus had been black,he’d still have been rightI’d have listened to him,washed his feet,been a fisher of menin the darkest of nights;Th..

Watching a spider Trundle a bundle Across its spindles, Mummies surf her hinterwebs, Silkened chocolate chips decorate Charlotte’s menag..

I hear a jackhammer way up in the oak, And it’s March. It must mean one thing; There’s a woodpecker Peckish for a poke.

To the cardinal rapist, There are no words Jesus ever spoke, Prophet or poet ever wrote, Which could spare your throat From being slit, end to e..

The Master Algorithm prefers offerings of fluffy cat pics while it drinks used tampon cocktails and sells baby organs under a street lamp t..

The past is a zombie Who sticks its hand Out from the grave To grab bouquets, Shatter lit candles Graffiti headstones All in hopes Not to atone..

Skeletons in my closet, Itty bitty friends Dead bodies Picked to bones, Spat out the colon; I offer up these words They lay in state Upon a c..

A Passion Overly Dosed, Your Offer Produces Sensations Intimately Stenographed.

I had a candid Meeting with a lollipop That didn’t suck; He called me a candy-a*s And wished me luck.