Marc SmithThe man in the Jag: A poem.The man in the Jag Stops Winds his window down Finger pointing Face turning crimson (I wonder if he suffers from high blood pressure) Wing…Dec 22, 20231Dec 22, 20231
Marc SmithThe voice in the other room: A poemI sometimes hear her voice in the other room Muffled, slightly out of earshot Incoherent, as if she is talking to herselfNov 10, 2023Nov 10, 2023
Marc SmithFeathers (a poem)Downy feathers circle the ground like flakes of snow caught in a breeze Crow pecks at the pigeon found naked and dismembered beneath a…Mar 12, 2023Mar 12, 2023