-
the times…
Some poem entreating me, nagging at the hem, I set off to the grocery store, figuring that the drive would work out of my mental deeps something worth my ink. Nothing came, and that was for my Grief. Grief at the madness of our nation now, these dark days: nineteen children and two teachers, gunned…
-
Bees in the Bark & A Cemetery Beneath
How I came to decide on the authorial pseudonym ‘LoneMagnolia’ “They came to Bethsaida, and some people brought a blind man and begged Jesus to touch him. He took the blind man by the hand and led him outside the village. When he had spit on the man’s eyes and put his hands on him,…