I'm not going to lie, one of my goals at the bar is to have all my 10 seats filled with writers. Call it a make-shift wish of my own Algonquin roundtable. Or perhaps my own thing to do for National Poetry month coming up. So to get the ball rolling and to entice those writers to come out to Park Ave. in April, here's a poem penned by Amy Lemmon, Molly Peacock (and her rhyming napkin), myself, and Brad Hunter.
Late February
Three poets at a bar in the gloaming
Found, after a glass, their thoughts roaming
They stomached the burger
after their thoughts turned sugar
into new brainfire for poeming.
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