Poetry
Born into umbra,Between darkness and light,The sun’s dirty white,
Writing feels heavy today. Sometimes freedom is like that, a dead fat dove with no…
The wind blew in from the Atlantic, cold and harsh. Seamus was used to this, having spent all his life…
My generation of atomsSplitting nuclear familiesAge of the antisocialOf this…
I cannot satisfy everyone.I do not try to please anyone.Whenever I write, I do it with…