Written for: Sunday Whirl, Wordle #422
Words: pressed, evil, orange, tidy, saw, bone, trump, lies, hands, deny, grift, collude
Denials of collusion,
but his tidy hands did grift.
Under orange mop, confusion
reigned. Evil, lies–without wit.
The Press is bone of contention,
and all those who disagree
though all his words are invention.
Trump again? End of civility.
I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York.
My goal is to create and share poetry with others
who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve
in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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A succinct poem that describes the state of affairs