Poetry # 135

In this issue a couple of poetic doctors publically and fictionally breach the doctor-patient confidentiality, college professors profess a professional admiration for sadism. Although these poems smell like Marlboro Menthol Lights, I assure you they are Reds. Your respiratory system has no chance. Yours truly, Luis Rivas Amber Bromer Henry Ajumeze Almighty Editors of PoemsContinue reading “Poetry # 135”