Beyond Geography: Why I’m a Southern Poet
Not to be glib, but I have to at least acknowledge the obvious: I’m a Southern poet because I was […]
Not to be glib, but I have to at least acknowledge the obvious: I’m a Southern poet because I was […]
Now it is not a man pinned eviscerated to a barn door and stretched mothlike to show his brisket, the
He still remembers how to move sandpaper with the wood grain, push back years of weariness and start again. I
A man from Heartland Plumbing surveyed my postage stamp of grassthis morning, searching for water,
Just as neon lights sputtered on, shining pink and yellow mayhemacross Coliseum grounds, the mushrooms kicked in. I imagined this
for Willie Edwards If only it hadn’t been 1957 in a wooded area near Alabama, but it was; or missing