Western poets are wont to garden
And muck about in rubber boots –
Here there’s little frost to harden
And all this rain breeds shallow roots.
Enter, earwig, pierce the membrane
Tympanic, squat down in my brain
To squeeze nacreous nymph gleams
In the furrowed seedbed of dreams.
December 15, 2008
Goose Lane Editions Launches New Online Media Resources
December 15, 2008
New From Gaspereau Press