“I only read I books,”
she told me.
“I’ve tried the other kind.
They’re just not me.”
“I only read I books,”
she told me.
“I’ve tried the other kind.
They’re just not me.”
aka: The Happy Bookers
Artist
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
🙂
Oh oh oh! – I love it.