#412: A Poem from Taylor Mali’s Metaphor Dice on April 8, 2022

My soul is an unruly wasteland,which is to say that it’s always in trouble,always digging through the wreckage, always searching for greener pastures,unsatisfied, hungry, desperately reachingfor a mirage ofcool, clear water. A Note on Today’s Poem: The assignment from Napowrimo today was to write an alter-ego poem. I passed on that particular prompt in favor ofContinue reading “#412: A Poem from Taylor Mali’s Metaphor Dice on April 8, 2022”