We Are The Orlando...

Part III of my "Orlando Redux" project. The poetry. Who knows? Maybe one day, long after I'm dead, someone will collect all my short stories and poems that were never published and release them unto the world to much shoulder-shrugging.


We are the Orlando, Virginia. The perceived over-collection, or a solitary whole in a world of discontent, in a world of wordy discomfort at new definitions.

Normalcy: What we wouldn't give: The male. The female. Which half makes the whole when taken away?

Strang...