[tabby title="Poet Bio"] She doesn't show up when she's thought about.Her case is like a due delivery:Flumped on the sofa, you keep gazing out,Thinking "It will come now." The minutes flee. With all hopes gone, you turn to other stuffThat...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] If every wasteland had a cropper whoseAdroitness could convert its barren bedInto a spanning field of grains, this newsWould stun the goggling firmament and spreadTo other regions, pleasing every soul.Likewise, for my vacated, sombre heart,You've taken on...