Quodlibet

Midnight. First of May. Wash your hair in dew and gaze into a mirror (Careful! Don't break it!) There he is. A tall dark handsome strang...

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I didn't know what a Tritina WAS until yesterday! I deconstructed a poem I wrote for my 65th birthday and adapted it to this genre. It r...

On Gloucesrer Cross: Nathan. Dressed by the Salvation Army, fed By City Mission, sits Wasted. Maybe it's the drugs that make him simple...

Poke a hole in a poet's soul and just LOOK at what tumbles out! Toadflax Day's-eye Nightshade Flag   Love In A Mist Fritillary Cornf...

Eliot's an idiot If he thinks April stinks. I like April. I get to write poems Tapping away without a care in the world beyond Scaring a...