Prose Poetry
5 poems
If, in some deep, unthought of place, The dead could congregate with grace, They'd shuffle, wartorn, young and old, All breathless in the dusty cold, Of every race, creed and ...
I’m going to the dentist’s; Oh what fun’s in store! When they’re done with me, I swear I will Be eating through a straw. I almost wretch in remembrance; The ...