second fiddle
The writing of this poem, and the circumstances that led to its surfacing, helped me discover, name and understand something about myself that I think I’ve always known at some…
everything’s gonna be alright…eventually
February and March 2020 weren’t such great months. Not for me. Not for most of the rest of the world. I wrote this poem towards the middle of March, after…
doing time
They say time heals all wounds. Let it be so. doing time ©2020 punkie doing time the rhythmic tick tock of the antique clock tortures & tears…
the devil’s in the house of the rising sun
the devil’s in the house of the rising sun © 2020 pookie the devil’s in the house of the rising sun i awake at sunrise with a universe-sized canyon…
when yesterday’s laundry becomes today’s poetry
June 10, 2019: There’s a bush of bleeding hearts under the clothesline I strung up last summer between two trees in the backyard. By the time I moved in to…