Hypothetical Death Machine In The Form Of A Roller Coaster by Tina Gross
This poem had to of come about on a fall Saturday, because that’s when there is time for yard work, gutter cleaning, farmer’s markets, pumpkins and banter about the euthanasia rollercoaster. This poem will make you think, and you should do it while watching nature’s gardeners; squirrels, outside your window this Sunday.