July 22, 2026 | Poetry
Three Poems
Cletus Crow
i don't own a time machine / so here i am gargling syrup / at waffle house at 2:13 a.m.
i don't own a time machine / so here i am gargling syrup / at waffle house at 2:13 a.m.
At first, Grandpa thought a hawk had dropped a rabbit on Dad's head.
You are so smooth-skinned / I would send your husband / to war to die.
i grew tired of bukowski's penis / even deer looked plastic