I don’t know. I think I just wanted to write a Mothers Day poem that had the word “episiotomy.”
All in Poems
I don’t know. I think I just wanted to write a Mothers Day poem that had the word “episiotomy.”
I had some time on a tour bus in Las Vegas. I met a man. I wish him well.
Feels like taking the Lord’s name in vain to use his authority to crusade against a fake rabbit, no?
I had a lot of time to think about tithing, and I realized I only know how little I know.
There are lots of ways to sound your trumpet in the street.
The spark of the divine might’ve been in the meetings, but it certainly wasn’t in me.
Someone was talking about seeing the Hand of God in her life, but this was all I could think about.
I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. It’s hard to see what we have when we have it.
My advocate feels like a conflict of interest, but what are the alternatives?