Francie Lynch


Francie Lynch Poems

481. Transplanted Love 7/23/2015
482. A Retiree's Work Week 7/23/2015
483. The Eternal Theme 3/27/2015
484. Boring Bliss 3/28/2015
485. Happy Birthday Duchess 3/30/2015
486. The Obsessionist 3/30/2015
487. I'M A Stranger 3/30/2015
488. Ole Hunchback 3/31/2015
489. Kisses Gone Astray 4/1/2015
490. The Dregs 4/1/2015
491. Polaris 7/25/2015
492. One Word Poem (1w) 7/26/2015
493. Unknown Friends 7/27/2015
494. Respite (10w) 7/27/2015
495. Mr. Fawcett 7/27/2015
496. Conflicted Resolution 7/27/2015
497. Picture Perfect Self Portrait 7/28/2015
498. Blood Red Tomatoes 7/28/2015
499. Orbituary 7/29/2015
500. A Pandemic Of Awkward Confusion 7/29/2015
501. Narcis-Stick (10w) 7/29/2015
502. Nobody Speaks 7/29/2015
503. A Piss Up 8/6/2015
504. Take A Dump 8/6/2015
505. Clouding The Issue 8/6/2015
506. The Eighth Seal 8/7/2015
507. The Dropball 8/7/2015
508. Some Cops (10w) 8/7/2015
509. Our Home And Native Land 8/8/2015
510. It Doesn'T Make Sense 8/8/2015
511. The Dychotomy Of Life (10w) 8/10/2015
512. Shart Attack 8/10/2015
513. Soo True 8/10/2015
514. Just Waiting As A Poem 8/10/2015
515. It Makes No Sense 8/10/2015
516. I Have Compared 8/11/2015
517. The Amazing Heart (10w) 8/11/2015
518. Last Of The Ashes 8/17/2015
519. Expelling Excrement 8/17/2015
520. Can I Have A Word, Please? 8/17/2015

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Best Poem of Francie Lynch

A Child Is Born

I don't know destitute.
I could use the bathrooms
In McDonalds,
If I eat there.
I'm no refugee.
Neither are you.
We have computers, not canvas.
I warmed up the coffee today
And the dishwasher needs to go through
For the third time this week.
Homeless: We have them.
Poor: We'll always have them.
Hungry: Look to the soup kitchens.
Sick: The gurneys are lined in the halls.
Death: It's all around, and increasing.
And still, in that tent or Uber taxi
A child is born to change all this.

Read the full of A Child Is Born

Usk

That field stone bridge, as bridges do,
Waits over brown waters, joing roads where
Legions marching, marched on and on.
Her waters breached the ocean, bringing back
Bottles, birds and songs.

In the morning between the columns,
The water breaks from sloping bends,
But under the evening light, when the house

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