“Unlocking the Secrets of Mid-November: Stan Morrison’s Poem Reveals Hidden Depths of Emotion”
The vines are so spent nearly devoid of fruit, a few bunches hang on only…
The vines are so spent nearly devoid of fruit, a few bunches hang on only…
Dog howling, head pointed towards the stark moon, what is there in the moon that…
I heard your warble voice come through clearly on Sunday not just when we telephoned…
Find in me the soiled and sustained history you have been searching for. See in…
There was a college Dean who always wore a three piece suit. He was 42…
There was a college Dean who always wore a three piece suit. He was 42…
A whisper… the caress of a gentle breeze on the nape of your neck. The…
Invite me in Give me bourbon and Pop Corners Later on a juicy rib eye…
I see them in randomly assigned places Citing words like destiny Gaggle creatures honking at…
It feels strange to frown at the heat and brightness exploding through my kitchen window.…
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