Caveat: Poem #3168 “Eighty-fifth stanza”

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Kiamon sighed. Things becoming quite dire.
People were angry, the world was on fire.
Still, she at least had the comfort of ghosts.
Calm and assured, with their confident boasts.

– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. Part of a never-ending series of randomized snippets from the life of a fictional being in a fictional world (which is to say, my novel-in-progress that refuses to actually ever progress).


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Caveat: Poem #3151 “Eighty-fourth stanza”

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Kiamon boarded the tram in the morning;
No one had offered her much of a warning.
Mist over snow, all half melted and gray,
Slowly she started unfolding her day.

– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. Part of a never-ending series of randomized snippets from the life of a fictional being in a fictional world (which is to say, my novel-in-progress that refuses to actually ever progress).


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Caveat: Poem #2651 “Seventy-sixth stanza”

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Kiamon noted the rats by the grate.
Sunset had passed, and the time had grown late.
Streetcars were scarce. A dull mist filled the air.
Facing her future, she muttered a prayer.

– a quatrain in dactylic tetrameter. This is yet another random snippet from the life of Kiamon, a fictional being in an imaginary world.

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