Francie Lynch Poems
|1201.||Born With Wings||2/16/2015|
|1204.||I Have Dough Inside My Head||2/24/2015|
|1206.||Butterflies Are Pinned||2/16/2015|
|1207.||See The Pyramids Along The Drive||2/11/2015|
|1208.||Where Sympathies Lie||2/16/2015|
|1210.||Godzilla And Ufo's||5/12/2014|
|1211.||No Muses Need Apply||3/8/2015|
|1214.||I Have To Pee||1/19/2015|
|1216.||The Dogs' Days Of Winter||1/13/2015|
|1217.||The Leprechaun's Ball||3/17/2015|
|1218.||Active Vs. Passive||1/18/2015|
|1219.||My Poem Is My True Selfie||6/10/2014|
|1221.||Mary Jane Died Last Night||5/20/2015|
|1222.||The Lads Are Streaming Porn||1/18/2015|
|1223.||A Child Is Born||12/18/2015|
Comments about Francie Lynch
A Child Is Born
I don't know destitute.
I could use the bathrooms
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.
I'd Give My Right Arm
She clung to me like willow shade,
With one step I'm in the sun;
If my day got hot and hazy,
I knew where to run.
She dropped a force field round me,
From ground up to my crown;
I burrowed once beneath her,
But I was digging down.