Writings & Readings
Monday, December 31, 2012
found poem 2012 | assembled from the pages of the new yorker
The morning was cold and the sky was bright.
Aretha Franklin wore a large and interesting hat.
There's something ridiculous about a woman
who takes seven husbands
as if she had rummaged through the drawers of masculinity
and come up with seven dwarves.
The real hippie
is neither biddable
by Ron Reed
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