Poem of the Day: Franklin K. R. Cline
WHATEVER IT IS A DEAD THING MIGHT DO My iPhone insists I don’t mean “sestina” but instead “destroy,” and I think okay, now that’s something I can easily do: destroy, that is, especially here in November in which a certain reliable despair whirls around the lawns, these green-to-brown leaves, and I could sit… Read More Poem of the Day: Franklin K. R. Cline