Poetry Postcard Project: Day Four

Better late than never, right? These can't be mailed out until tomorrow, anyway.

I'm not really sure where the jungle-subject came from today. This is going to Wisconsin.

This would be Little Miss Talkalot if Little Miss Talkalot was a strung-out, recovering dope fiend. She's not, btw. (She stole one of my postcards for today's poem.)

It's the Vampire Baby . . . with a tree for a body! Ryden calls this "Stump Baby."

More blergness. I need to work on my endings.


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