Flower first
before you dress
in green and
practical leaves.
Why wait
when this very day
can be spent
covered in pink blossoms
and fat bees,
every single one of them
drunk and busy,
lopsided with joy
just to be near you
at the height of
your beauty?
Flower first.
Flower now.
Extravagance is Everything.
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
MOSTLY MONTREAL, MOST OF THE TIME
I came to where you were living, up a stair. There was no one there.--John Ashberry, "The New Higher"
custom poems on vintage typewriters
One Poet's Writing Practice
A Ronka Poetry Practice Since 2014
Living in the moment
where observation and imagination meet nature in poetry
