To Wring a Poem From My Gut

To wring a poem from my gut, there’s nothing like infuriation, with acid reflux burning, comes a verbal deviation.   My words seethe from every crack, I say only in a sarcophagus, would you be able to silence, this woman’s throbbing esophagus.   Wrenching impotence, in the face of calamity, give me a Pepcid Ac... Continue Reading →

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