poets
carriejonesbooks Imprinted
Imprinted The tight curls on her lover’s neck? Lord studied them. Made litanies to survive. Whitman, of course, sang of electric bodies and armies he loved, of girth. Chen Chen…
Myths About Presidents
Myths About Presidents 26. He didn’t Ride A moose. The photo is fake Like a lot Of presidential things. 16. He dreamt His death, Found himself Waking in a coffin…
No One Wants to Admit
No one wants to admit that the moment they are home alone, They start singing show tunes or childhood hits, Pretending the crowds are adoring as they slide in socks…
It’s My Birthday (and I’m trying to be brave–possibly failing)
And I think that my poetry is a bit like my voice. It is imperfect. It sounds like a Muppet. I slosh my s’s a lot. It’s not a typical…