Posted inPoetry
The Pockets of Poverty by Paradis Perdu (Charles Richey)
The pockets of poverty are empty tonight, Used by the left and ignored by the right. Look here, stranger, won't you come and see What this thing called poverty is…
Posted inPoetry
I COME FROM by Manda Wallace
I come from rags, not riches. From moonshine! From the Gospels, Matthew, Mark, Luke & John! I am from the wet washboard, hanging on the rugged front porch! The Rhododendrons…
Posted inPoetry
Rock City by Aimee LaFon
Listen- to the relentless pour of tears. I wonder how the clouds feel as My murky red body melts Shifting stones beneath me. In showers of forgiveness. I cannot forgive-…