Poems from Rawice
I know a waitress who’s hair is yellow.
Her style and temperament seem so mellow
Like most blonds who serve behind a counter
She endures...
I am mere matter, formed by some genetic code from my fathers pallet
A copy of my long forgotten fore fathers chromosomes and genes
Some...
One morning, I happened on a divided path in a yellow wood
Then realized it was like the one where Robert Frost once stood
I stopped and...
This is to be preformed as a slam holding a black stick, as a prop.
I would like to introduce you to Mr. Stick.
His girlfriends call him...