"YOU cannot serve two Masters," saith the Word.
But Satan nudges us and whispers, "Gammon!
You lend your Womankind to love the Lord,
And give Yourselves to serve and worship Mammon."
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I wrote some of the worst poetry west from the Mississippi River, but I wrote. And I finally sometimes got it right.
by Robert WrigleyOf the two spoiled, barn-sour geldings
we owned that year, it was Red—
skittish and prone to explode
even at fourteen years—who’d let me
hold to my face his own: the massive labyrinthine
caverns of the ...