The Pescetarian Poet
fishy scribbles for fussy nibbles
A fossil preserved in our fridge.
Questions which I cannot answer.
Given a homophonic prompt, I scribbled this villanelle with homophonic refrains.
A bit of free thinking during a time that's anything but free.
Regardless of the weather, we can always use a well-meaning wish or two.
A snapshot on my way to work.
What makes a poem a poem?
A poem to my brothers and sisters far and near, fellow children of our dearest Mother Earth.
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