She doesn’t know what the snow does/ to her pipes. But you do.
Let someone bang her champagne glass with the pretty cutlery your in-laws gifted you. Or bang your own.
Be humble. Do not be a dick. Do this for the sake of your soul but also for the sake of your career.
Faceless hills,/ lamps of summer in galaxy gray, we touch & go
The chemicals of each breed/ brings a new threat.
Easy for him to say, with her long hair brushing his feet for the first time, hair I had combed and scented with the crushed river lilies, the yellow and white. She a little smitten, him smiling, so sure. Of course he was the son of God. Meanwhile her bread rose too high, the fire… Continue reading “Martha Admits She Was Angry” by Nancy White
Oh, life is a glorious cycle of song, A medley of extemporanea, And love is a thing that can never go wrong And I am Marie of Rumania. —Dorothy Parker Queen Marie of Romania (1875–1938) was a statuesque beauty whose reign was notable for diligence, common-sense and decency, attributes not normally associated with Romania but… Continue reading “A Medley of Extemporanea” by Tobias Seamon