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COMING THIS SUMMER GET READY FOR THE RIDE OF YOUR LIFE JUST BECAUSE YOU COULD NOT STOP FOR DEATH DOESN'T MEAN HE COULD NOT STOP FOR YOU

If you're dipping into the #sealeychallenge in August but are on a budget like me, I'd be happy to share or swap a PDF of an (old, out-of-print) chapbook or two. I've got "Homebodies," "Heiress to a Small Ruin" and "Excuse me while I wring this long swim out of my hair." Just ask!

An erasure from ‘Classic Crimes’ for #smallpoemsunday @tomsnarsky.bsky.social

Eduardo Galeano, from 'The Book of Embraces'

here it is, that double-edged sword I've heard so much about

if you see this quote pic yourself wearing sun glasses

jimothy, is that you

What are you reading? I am deep into "Memed, My Hawk." Sad to admit I think it's the first novel I've read by a Turkish author. @nyrb-imprints.bsky.social #booksky

My Intention being to / proceed / thro' the / Coolness of / Silence and my Desire / being to / keep firm in my Endeavor / I contrived / a little Book in which / I rul'd an erasure from The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin for #smallpoemsunday @tomsnarsky.bsky.social

the world's only living musical genius is loneliness in July,

last day for this ☘️

Federico García Lorca for #smallpoemsunday. I love those last three lines. @tomsnarsky.bsky.social

for #smallpoemsunday, a visual poem from "Hotel Almighty." @tomsnarsky.bsky.social Now I must rinse / off / The power / found / in a / shady corner of / the / Republic / that’s the name of the game now, / look around / there are lions behind … / and by-God lions ahead

Post one (1) photo you took of a painting. Sable Elyse Smith, "Coloring Book 63"

They billow from a hillside in Cha’am. Together, they are more than plural: the planet’s darkest song... --"Bats," by Luke Hathaway www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazi...

Short poem with a long title for #smallpoemsunday. I have used the last line of the poem on some of my collage postcards, too.

Baby, you're a Knicks fan too

"I asked for very little from life, and even this little was denied me. A nearby field, a ray of sunlight, a little bit of calm along with a bit of bread, not to feel oppressed by the knowledge that I exist..." happy birthday to Fernando Pessoa.

...she understood, after a few years, the poem would only fail and so she began on a whim moving her pen in loops across every line, taking her time, taking care to darken the places where her letters showed through... -from "Craft Talk" by Matt Donovan l1nq.com/rxtpbot

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