They made the breaded mushrooms
roadside, big bags of them like
piecemeal promises of fullness
in a five year-old’s greasy hands,
on the way, I think now,
from our suburb to
a country playhouse
where the first large world
would always devour me.
Friday, May 9, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
Creative Commons Attribution Statement
Let's Do Writing
So as not to make this a vanity affair, I ask you to shoot some work down the hole. We can savor, support, save each other's writing from mediocrity.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)