Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
A cop with a backpack sprayer
poisoning an urban garden—
why should I dream of this?
I carry out a dead houseplant,
but can’t find a snow-free spot
to lay it to rest.
The house finch whose eye disease
prevents him from migrating
warbles on and on.
Dave Bonta (bio) often suffers from imposter syndrome, but not in a bad way — more like some kind of flower-breathing dragon, pot-bellied and igneous. Be that as it may, all of his writing here is available for reuse and creative remix under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. For attribution in printed material, his name (Dave Bonta) will suffice, but for web use, please link back to the original. Contact him for permission to waive the “share alike” provision (e.g. for use in a conventionally copyrighted work).