<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Kurl Urban | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/kurlurban</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Kurl Urban</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776022536</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Down Punctuation Avenue Park</title>
			<description>Providing characterization for punctuation symbols
</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kurlurban/1454334/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>The Twelfth Hour Whispers</title>
			<description>I've always lived in the sky, amongst the stars</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kurlurban/1453818/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>The Intruder</title>
			<description>The only acceptable intrusion, allowed.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kurlurban/1453776/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>The First Of September</title>
			<description>What makes you old and wise is not the fact that you old and wise but that you are wise and old. So when you birthed courage you birthed us, so its not the strength in a muscular figure that makes you strong but the ease at which you made it seem, alone. You nourished us from the bread crumbs, c..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kurlurban/1453623/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Kenya Urban</title>
			<description>When I write I give birth to a daughter, opinionated and deep, a brown eye beauty, locks for hair, african at best.Her skin burnt from over use of ink. Playing hopscotch through epic word play, alliteration fabricated from my dancing with acquainted nights.</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kurlurban/1453462/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>The Prodigal Son To His Brother</title>
			<description>&quot;What happens when an old age parable, still retains it's moral value but lodged from a different angle, the result is this...&quot;
</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kurlurban/1453184/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>You lied when you said you were sweet. </title>
			<description>Spoken Poetry</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/kurlurban/1453162/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>