2014 #122

or more like fourteen to seventy-eight
when pastures never dreamed Lawns or Hills
would ever devour them and an angus
hardly devours much, and fertilizes,
and the best a spy could go by was legend
or word of mouth from a festival survivor
so the idea of tooling in a beaten
Chevrolet or Dodge, is anachronistic

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About Timmy the Scribbler

Love to write all kinds of stuff I love writing so many different kinds of stuff it is a constant struggle to narrow the focus to a manageable handful and let the others go. But a few years ago I dipped my fingers into a poetry pie and of all my uncertainties, one thing that is no uncertainty is that it is one passion that must remain, so maybe that's the one. I do dearly delight in chopping up fictional works into stanzas and syllables.
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