Francie Lynch


Francie Lynch Poems

1081. Humanity's Vanity 8/11/2015
1082. I Always Wanted 7/24/2015
1083. Phenomenal Poems 7/14/2015
1084. Take It From A Father 6/22/2015
1085. Lighthouse Eyes 4/5/2014
1086. Red, Red 2/9/2015
1087. The Fucked For Life Club 12/19/2014
1088. Cicadas And Crickets 8/13/2017
1089. Worry Begets Worries 9/11/2017
1090. I Get No Sleep 8/7/2017
1091. I Will Age 7/8/2017
1092. It's A Wonder Any Of Us Are Here At All 6/13/2017
1093. A Word To The Wise 5/11/2017
1094. Revolving Door 7/31/2015
1095. We're Not Laundry 12/8/2015
1096. Glasgow Cathedral 11/7/2015
1097. Talking To Strangers 11/10/2015
1098. Secrets 11/5/2015
1099. Everything's Back In Vogue 8/16/2015
1100. No Words 5/8/2017
1101. Life's A Puzzle 3/5/2016
1102. My Heart's A Boiling Cauldron 11/27/2015
1103. Death Is All Around 8/6/2015
1104. I Have To Pee 1/19/2015
1105. The Dogs' Days Of Winter 1/13/2015
1106. The Leprechaun's Ball 3/17/2015
1107. Active Vs. Passive 1/18/2015
1108. Ice-Cream 3/3/2015
1109. How I Measure Time 4/22/2015
1110. Teaching Lesson 7/30/2015
1111. Elegy For Dead Poets 9/26/2015
1112. Lucifer Wept 3/10/2016
1113. The Lads Are Streaming Porn 1/18/2015
1114. The Flight Ahead Of Me 4/1/2015
1115. My Poem Is My True Selfie 6/10/2014
1116. Not All Fathers Are Dads 6/2/2016
1117. Chaos 1/11/2015
1118. Were There Five? 1/31/2014
1119. Mary Jane Died Last Night 5/20/2015
1120. A Child Is Born 12/18/2015
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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