aspiring poet working on his first chapbook of poetry...
Roots and Branches, hardly a metaphor for living on this cold December full moon night I sit thinking of April. Even the birds don’t want
By Gerry Thibeault2 months ago in Poets
It is so profound how I don't think about it anymore. With nature on its way out I packed melancholy into an airtight jar and put it on the shelf beside the jar
Music as a Metaphor It is desire that brings me to the city then back to the country. I spend sleepless nights listening to traffic
Domiciliary Animals If I was disposition, annually a new ring. Of all around, a gnawing animal comforts. A thousand crimson warriors carry a soggy
