1941 Chevy
My mother’s car. For her, the car—any car— was a necessary evil, purely point A to point B and back again. If the Chevy ever had a color, it had been blasted off in an Arizona desert or bleached in...
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Terry---a bit flat, yes?four verses about turning, doors flying open. got it.a few other details, color and turn signals. flat for me.and is the poem about the Chevy, or the woman driving?do you...
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Just a memoir poem about a car, Bernie. The last stanza is, I admit, a bit flat--a cheap way out of the poem. But no captain Ahabs or marathon runners in sight as far as I can see. Thanks for the...
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Terry---here is Lynyrd Skynrd's memoir.....shocks with originality and simplicity....and please...not just a memoir....give me gold, your best....memoir.Mama told me when I was young "Come sit beside...
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Okay. I will see what I can do. I will have to dig deeper to get at the heart of the thing. Bear with me. Terry
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Great!right here, take as long as necessary. this is a workshop so i tell myself all the time....Bernie, work.
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