The past doesn’t just rewrite itself
An unlikely hole-in-one playing golf with my dad
What if a poem was just an ink blot awaiting your response?
I’ve looked at clouds that way . . .
I just wanted the cookie
Some thoughts about deck boards and carburetors and poetry.
The inside of a carburetor is as strange as its spelling . . .
weeds always grow until they become flowers
Lesson One of the Poet Projects’ poetry writing course, “A Course in Forces”
This is the start of a new poetproject project, “A Course in Forces”, in which I will offer poetry exercises for you to try and then share with the community. Let’s grow for it!