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Fim the Fool Man Failure, or; the words are assembled in different patterns and then employed without pay

Posted byZakMay 3, 2021August 4, 2023Posted inPoetry

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Posted byZakMay 3, 2021August 4, 2023Posted inPoetry

Published by Zak

poetry of place. words in service of the wordless. View more posts

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my man out in Vermont hauls his syrup with draft horses and a wagon and this reminds me of a woman who was much shorter than i but could outrun me both sprinting and in marathon
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“A child stands like a priest under his father’s sky. Why do you fate me to fail you?”
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