• shorts
    • crumbsnatcher (short film)
    • the wandering eye (une chienne andalouse)
  • talking to people about things they love
  • poems
    • cedar
    • ballade d'une francophile
    • sonic sonnet
    • dialogue in verse between god and man
    • i will sleep until i wake up
    • the downside for poets who toil in the darkness
    • the death & rebirth of empathy
    • two herons
    • a light drizzle
    • the lesson in grasses
    • says simon cowell (a villanelle)
    • five small children, painted well
    • that's rich
    • after lear
    • dietary restrictions
    • put the babies back to work
    • the cynic’s valentine
    • a poetry limerick
  • stories
    • lost articles
    • alexander in midair
    • wish list
    • melvin the destroyer
    • great aunt bertha fussbudget's mirthless legacy: part one
    • one rainy night, soon
    • yours truly, the canary
    • last supper at the pie emporium
  • visions
  • other words (blog posts)
  • things & stuff (blogs 2016-2018)
  • bio
  • Menu

agnes bookbinder

non sequitur
  • shorts
    • crumbsnatcher (short film)
    • the wandering eye (une chienne andalouse)
  • talking to people about things they love
  • poems
    • cedar
    • ballade d'une francophile
    • sonic sonnet
    • dialogue in verse between god and man
    • i will sleep until i wake up
    • the downside for poets who toil in the darkness
    • the death & rebirth of empathy
    • two herons
    • a light drizzle
    • the lesson in grasses
    • says simon cowell (a villanelle)
    • five small children, painted well
    • that's rich
    • after lear
    • dietary restrictions
    • put the babies back to work
    • the cynic’s valentine
    • a poetry limerick
  • stories
    • lost articles
    • alexander in midair
    • wish list
    • melvin the destroyer
    • great aunt bertha fussbudget's mirthless legacy: part one
    • one rainy night, soon
    • yours truly, the canary
    • last supper at the pie emporium
  • visions
  • other words (blog posts)
  • things & stuff (blogs 2016-2018)
  • bio

a (very bad but thankfully short) rhyming poem for sunday night

January 28, 2018

Sunday's leaving --it's so cruel.

I'm filled with such anxiety.

"Why must you leave???" I cry through drool 

(I've said farewell sobriety).

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