We Write Poems prompt 158 Playing Sherlock reminds us that we are bombarded with slogans, messages, and signs and perhaps there’s an intersection between these man-made signs/messages and your protoganist’s path. … Continue reading
The Evening Muse This is the description of my non-existent muse. My muse is not a tree a cat a dog a song. My muse is what was that?…Oh, that’s … Continue reading
Eleven Letters from Frank 1. I am traveling away now, with your breath still in my lungs; my hands are nothing but your smell. 2. There is no place to … Continue reading
This is a photograph of the woman’s body over time. There, where she is younger, she is a river, with a river’s arms. Fish tickle the pool of her river … Continue reading
My poems wear tooled leather belts
My poems are X the mysterious unknown