The Art Teacher has left town in her shiny Mini Cooper, starlight blue headed into the city She has abandoned the art lab the student…
Author: broussardlana
Is there a conductor around someone in charge plotting our escape we shouldn’t be here really this earth is fire bound its headlines are horrendous…
Autumn you are at once hot-handed shifting gears in your blustery boots November was singing like a spoiled canary prodding us away from sunny windows…
Remember when I threatened, err, I mean, mentioned that I might post some of my 1980s flashback poetry? Well….. I’m starting out with this gem…
I find in the middle drawer of an antique chest an envelope of postage stamps that my mother forgot she had The pink rose ones…
I live to seek the quiet corners beyond the impact and milling of the masses the yell and chaotic thunder vanishes on the cusp in…
So I recently asked Aunt Agnes to share one of her favorite Thanksgiving recipes, and here is what she said: “Get yourself some Velveeta, some…
I gave you butterflies and a freedom compass a sure route to the North Star a desert of sugared sands to sweeten the fallout from…
Here, let me hand you these small words let them linger ever so slightly melting into the soil never quite becoming sand castles a testament…
Shaky hand grasped pen pressed to paper signs an X by the word P-E-R-M-I-S-S-I-O-N The words dancing like glitzy little spiders on white paper a…