<?xml version="1.0" encoding="ISO-8859-1"?>
<rss version="2.0">
	<channel>
		<title>Provisional Life | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/tetramethod</link>
		<description>The original writings of author Provisional Life</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776095649</lastBuildDate>
		<generator>WritersCafe.org RSS Generator</generator>
		<ttl>15</ttl>
		<item>
			<title>Feed me (v 2.0)</title>
			<description>This was my adaptation of a friend's poem of the same name.  </description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tetramethod/1478022/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>We Created Our Own Happiness</title>
			<description>We created our own happiness,Waving colorful flags,Drinking light with our eyes,Pulsating sounds with our fingers.We created our own happiness,Blissfully ignorant,Intoxicated by incense,Spinning maelstroms in our mind.We created our own happiness,Laughing at the world through our concave,Dancing fev..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tetramethod/1478019/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>A look through my window</title>
			<description>The tardy train passing me by,Sliding over the clunky bridge,The smell of ice far from the east,Brought by the wind from the Carpathian ridge.Floating along the vineyard slope, The turbid Danube silently roars, An old fisherman ting his boat,Among the poplars, on puddly shores. The mist has spread, ..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tetramethod/1478010/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>A village on steroids</title>
			<description>A grim observance of my home city. * WORK IN PROGRESS</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tetramethod/1478004/</link>
		</item>
		<item>
			<title>Deathly rhymes</title>
			<description>I was sitting in the sand,Drawing circles with my hand,A sparrow told me you were dead,I was glad, I was glad.I was dancing on your grave,Listening to Nick Cave,You knew he was my fave,You are dead and who's to blame?It's your fault, you know that now,Acting like such a cow,How could you so allow,Ly..</description>
			<image></image>
			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/tetramethod/1477129/</link>
		</item>
	</channel>
</rss>