Tag: Daily Poetry
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Warmest French Bread
I am the River Moldau collecting beneath crossed ankles. I am the sideways push to get out from your path. I am you, stained grey-air ash. I am warmest French bread and condensation on the plate. Me and the droplets waiting for spreadable Everything’s Better Butter.
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key click?
Key click and key click And decline with surety this and the next also “Could these pieces be any more hollow?” “These aren’t writers. These are twenty-something-aged children” So the poems and the flash fiction and the creative nonfiction are sophomoric So I begin hating my job as an editor This publication is small so…