Jun 5, 2021

Prose poems. Just move along.

In our hot, dry summer, people here long for the cool, wet winter. Come winter, the same people will call out for some sunshine. Friends, there is only the present moment; enjoy it! Tomorrow might not come for you. Or for me.


On a nice day like this, there should be a river to cross. There should be a mountain to climb. Warm, but not hot. There is a breeze, but I wouldn’t call it windy. Perhaps I’ll answer it right after my nap. Or perhaps not.


Sometimes you just gotta let that shit go.

Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly and applying the wrong remedies.
-Groucho Marx


Ren Powell

Bait the Lines

Hardcore Zen

haiku eye

The Urban Mermaid

HOOT, a monthly literary magazine on a postcard

The Slowdown

clay and branches


Summer's End

Medusa's Kitchen

The Middlewesterner

The Morning Porch/Patio

VIA NEGATIVA, purveyors of fine poetry since 2003


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