Voice Recording: Burnt

(The raging storm outside the poet’s gypsy cart turns to white noise behind this reading, for which she apologizes to her long suffering listeners)


The threat’ning murmer of the rising crowd…

“Burnt” (6:35)



Among us, poets are not paid. The poet/editor of this website, being physically disabled, lives at a fraction of her nation’s poverty level, and currently lives in her vehicle. Become a patron of the fine arts by making a donation at: https://www.gofundme.com/are-you-a-patron-of-the-arts


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