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		<title>D. Jones | WritersCafe.org</title>
		<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/zombiedanceprod</link>
		<description>The original writings of author D. Jones</description>
		<language>en-us</language>
		<copyright>Copyright 2026 WritersCafe.org</copyright>
		<lastBuildDate>1776253379</lastBuildDate>
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		<ttl>15</ttl>
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			<title>Drop</title>
			<description>You started with creation,Destined to fall.One of millions,billions.Trillions?Life spent in an instant,no gratification,windswept, pulled out.Thrown to the ground.You wouldn't know it&amp;nbsp;until the surface greets you.This isn't the end.Life isn't a straight line.nothing before, nothing after.Life i..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1774784/</link>
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			<title>Tyrant</title>
			<description>We&amp;rsquo;ve Broken our necks for youslaving away for what it&amp;rsquo;s worthbut reward comes cheap for skillful liarstesting strength of willsharp tales take chunks of fleshblood spraying with each wordgod, let not my prayers go unheardsee not the war within mefor the world outside is ..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1774774/</link>
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			<title>Past</title>
			<description> The past is a curious thingfrom the point of remembranceit never leaves the foremost partof the negativity complex we hear it spoken aboutlike bad weather aftera day of gorgeous conditions it burns the ear whena past mistake comes backto haunt through the teethof an opponent surroundedby vile adjec..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1770012/</link>
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			<title>Shush</title>
			<description>shush.be silenti cannot think with your voice in my headalthough its not really your voice its my imaginationwhich doesn't exactlysound like your voicebut its close enoughand why it keeps invadingmy conscience is beyond me.at least turn the volume down.i can't hear myself think, i can only hear yous..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1770009/</link>
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			<title>Unkept</title>
			<description>i'm tiredand strainingto see the world drainingaway with contemptmy hairis unkept trumping my fellowsblown awaywith a bellowsdrooping in my lapi'm melting into a nap</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1770007/</link>
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			<title>Eyes</title>
			<description>before you realizethat your eyes are in minebe careful who else is watching</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1769990/</link>
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			<title>Aimless Wandering</title>
			<description>She&amp;rsquo;s an angeland you&amp;rsquo;re insanebloody knucklesis a horrible gametickle me pink and paint me brownthis old mancame back to townaddress me suchfrivolous swinethis body is lookin mighty fine</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1769985/</link>
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			<title>Crafty Touch</title>
			<description>a quiet stirring lapps like waves within mebringing about an illusion of calming serenityyour trance is alluring and i cannot look awayi feel as though i'm unable to keep these creatures at bayclawing to show but i hide them wellonly a well trained eye could see their yellit would do to good to list..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1769978/</link>
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			<title>Hide and Seek</title>
			<description>under and belowcovered in rain and snowtired beyond beliefI lay and stare at my feetrejected from the restI feel far from the bestjust rewards face meif i could just move my feet&amp;ldquo;lie still&amp;rdquo;, they keep saying&amp;ldquo;don&amp;rsquo;t move and you&amp;rsquo;re playing&amp;rdquo;this game is not amusingwh..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1769974/</link>
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			<title>Back Talk</title>
			<description>just for thatill cause you griefmaking up liesbefore you even speakthis instantwill stay with me forevershot back down with whiskey for a chaserat this timeim waiting for a planto wash away this evidenceand heal my scarred up handif it wasn't forthis house full of strangersi'd pack up my thingsand f..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1769971/</link>
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			<title>Sleep</title>
			<description>sleep has feigned its friendship i fearfor the slow whisper of the sandman i do not hearrestlessly, my body language clamorsbut all i hear are the clocks hammerseach click a tick towards &amp;nbsp;slumberbut each tick a tock too late i wonderi stare into darkness, more out than inwishing that the lights..</description>
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			<link>http://slow.writerscafe.org/writing/zombiedanceprod/1769970/</link>
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