It was a slow winter for poetry, but here’s the roundup. If you’re new to this, read the Cheap Poetry Manifesto.
The decorations are put away in pieces and in bitses
but the holiday ain’t over ’til we eat the Christmas citrus.
Despite the ululations
of nine year-old relations
that I know,
It just won’t snow.
Through the office window I hear
A trill so fine and dandy
I know whene’er it greets my ear
The birds are getting randy. Continue reading “Cheap poetry, January–March”