Featured Poet Alan Britt

LIFE GOES ON

A panel of dysfunctionals with diesel-stained straw framing  their eyebrows while top buttons burst their sheaths, a maligned panel that crawled from the swamp only to be recognized on cable TV, at Wegmans, PTA, & 7-11,  a panel sporting serrated flaps resembling gills behind their ears. I sometimes dream about flaps behind my ears. Still, this panel of citizens from the King  of Hearts dodging Nazi tanks squealing  flaming nightmares, this much ma...

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