all i’m thinking about

by Paul Robert Mullen the trees in huckleberry grove were bending            touching their toes in the gustsso we drove down to the coast where boatsbobbed drunk in the stormand waves curled like hands scraping back            the sand who’d have known that laterwhen clouds were sucked into science-fictionelectric white              we would be saton benches / walking through pathways            where birds singresting Read More