Sometimes art doesn’t come visually alone. It comes with stuff. In this case a poem. My poetry can be kind of dark. I see a different world than a lot of people see and sometimes this is how it comes out.
A poem about living life with an eye to becoming love. As told by a river.
A brief poem about stupidly going with the flow of angry, obsessed people as we plunge headlong blindly to what future?
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