Writer. Demand Poet.
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Ursula laughed at me.
She said: “Ha ha, people from
Iowa eat carp straight out
Of the Mississippi. And they
Like it!” The long wooden
Bench rolled like the river
Under her as she chuckled
And smoked and … Read the rest “Ursula”
Clouds at
Main stuttered
Into dusk.
Showed me
A memory:
Thanksgiving 2007.
Suzannah, the dog and
A Zip car. My
Brother, alone–
Awkard.
We walked low
Tide sunset
Over sodden
Rippled sand.
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This post is from my poetry series … Read the rest “Clouds at Main”