No More Cream Puffs
By Darrell Petska Can't you feel it? That chokehold on our throats— write like this say it like that be dignified, calm, aloof— Hell, today's hands demand poems hard as a brick. Frilly little rhymes? Maybe Sundays with tea. Something afraid of us wants our words meek, not defiant: "Go ahead, throw your cream puffs. Now [...]