turn off the radio, quick
before the weather man says things
you will regret hearing
sick of snow that hasn’t even
fallen yet.
turn off the radio, quick
before the weather man says things
you will regret hearing
sick of snow that hasn’t even
fallen yet.
there's a poem in every day
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