"No one ever put her hand on my belly to feel the bun in my poetic oven..." elicited a string of chuckles and a new found empathy for the masculine literary type pregnant with poetry and unseen possibility.
I think next time he oughta take those word magnets and lay them out in the sand, and construct a poem about the beach in that way, and then maybe he’d get some oohs and ahhs over his poetry in process.
"No one ever put her hand on my belly to feel the bun in my poetic oven..." elicited a string of chuckles and a new found empathy for the masculine literary type pregnant with poetry and unseen possibility.
I think next time he oughta take those word magnets and lay them out in the sand, and construct a poem about the beach in that way, and then maybe he’d get some oohs and ahhs over his poetry in process.