Today’s Poetry Prompt: Go outdoors and get some fresh air. Find a comfortable spot and write a poem.
Okay, not for nothing, but I appreciate we've gotten away from all that iambic pentameter stuff, (like that was going to happen), but this is still Montana and it's freezing-ass cold outside. I prefer my fresh air slightly warmed.
Some people will complain about everything. Yes. I know.
9-1-1cut my finger half off today.
as I swayed nauseously from room to room
I learned.
nobody cares about a half-off finger.
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