that little bird under the leaf.
she didn't hide from me.
she hopped out,
to take a look.
Tickle your toes. . .
-
Though it hasn't been months since I have written and attempted edits within my memoir, it has been quite some time since I have reflect...
-
Cal, For Elizabeth Bishop You are American gossip, Didn't anyone have the heart to tell you? You said yourself, you are fantastic and u...
-
Recently I have been really attempting to delve into what it means to be a poet. Jim Morrison once wanted to be a poet, and look where it go...
-
hunger is sometimes preferable to loneliness. a stomach will twist- but hands become dirty and heavy when full of coins.
-
stuck-wallpaper, tickled, matted-madness, in the morning before matinee wallflowers at school dances just want to be asked. ask them. they...
-
My latest endeavor is to begin reading "Tell it Slant: Writing and Shaping Creative Nonfiction" by Brenda Miller and Suzanne Paula...
-
I took a week off from writing this lovely, to take a bite out of a creamy, syrupy, delicious chunk of my memoir. I have begun to tackle the...
-
motionless sap. ogling your shadow, you have much thinking to do. has the potassium kicked you in the arse yet-and got you going? you a...
-
lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
-
The one day that I am home sick is the one day that everyone goes on a balloon ride. Just my luck. You know, it's funny how they always ...
Poets United Contributor
No comments:
Post a Comment