Member since August 26, 2018 | 1,829 Readings |
Wine bottle in hand, / she drunk danced on the edge / of the floating dock. / A setting sun-kissed silhouette, / she wore my sweater / a size too…
Lone Pronghorn Antelope
Standing on a dusty dirt rise // staring off into silence / there’s solace / in the empty expanse of sage / and bunchgrass flats, / but sadness in…
Subscribed by Seth Coffman
Bukowski started it, got drunk and picked a fight with John Muir. He didn’t want to fight for any ideological reason—it was just somehow what he…
The Worst Winter Since 1989
For the past three days, // white wind and heavy drifts / have closed the road. / Besieged by ten below, / but there’s enough to eat / and…
If only you could choose / to feel deeply. Since you cannot, / I will feel deeply for us both. / I will bury our hundred summers / in a hole…
Heavenly father and mother, sister and brother, / O great and wise aunt and laughing uncle, / thank you for bringing us to your table. / …
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