in Poetry

Now young in death
How can that be?
and why should I
surmise her demise
in such fashion

barely cold
when calculations
set in-and I
pretend to feel
but can only count
to sum up
and reverse
the algebra of my


I’m spry yet retired. I reside in the inner city of a major metropolitan area of the United States. I read politics. I watch baseball. I hum along with the tune. I June swoon, and moon the bad poem. Post here, are old and new. Opinions are my very own, except when wrong.

Latest from Poetry


NO sweat, this deliquesce as this summer Sunday evaporates the ice in
Go to Top
%d bloggers like this: