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Tag Archives: poem

an ode to elsie in small letters

remember when elsie used to soak her bibs? yeah, when you would wash all eleven every day? yep. those were the days. remember when elsie would carry around a pink ikea spoon? or the day you brought her up from the church nursery and she was clutching that red plastic ball? and the sunday after [...]

plum poetic and a bowl of lemons

“I didn’t steal this plum,” she says, plum in hand. She’s sensitive these days. About being misunderstood. She’s not a thief. She’s just lonely, and the plum is round and just right in her fist. If she stuffs it in his knapsack, it will get mushy. She returns home and kneels down to pray on [...]