heart like a cold engine
unstarted for too long
promised leisurely Sunday drives
or thrilling racetrack curves
when what you truly mean
is Stay Put,
quietly
in the dim and cobwebbed garage
heart like a cold engine
unstarted for too long
promised leisurely Sunday drives
or thrilling racetrack curves
when what you truly mean
is Stay Put,
quietly
in the dim and cobwebbed garage
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