Francie Lynch


Francie Lynch Poems

1201. Born With Wings 2/16/2015
1202. Shrove Tuesday 2/17/2015
1203. Clowns 3/6/2015
1204. I Have Dough Inside My Head 2/24/2015
1205. Garbage 3/4/2015
1206. Butterflies Are Pinned 2/16/2015
1207. See The Pyramids Along The Drive 2/11/2015
1208. Where Sympathies Lie 2/16/2015
1209. Seventh Son 1/30/2014
1210. Godzilla And Ufo's 5/12/2014
1211. No Muses Need Apply 3/8/2015
1212. Colonoscopy 2/9/2015
1213. Red, Red 2/9/2015
1214. I Have To Pee 1/19/2015
1215. Chaos 1/11/2015
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
1220. Ice-Cream 3/3/2015
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

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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

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.

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