A Collection of Poetry by Tempest Brew

Pandemic

if there's a spread

of this disease

of knowing

don't look at me as your

kind night nurse

don't expect me

to be the buxom bride

of deathbed care

for your limited whim

Dermis

I'm the skin

of a lady just so deep

then I become like

Nietzsche's animal

dream inside

and want to claw

for something more

Middle Ages

as I approach forty

I realize the irony

that we know so little

about the middle ages

and I understand

the need for swords

and tales of dragons

Tempest Brew is someone.  She likes coffee, wine, and books.