“Love Verse is long dead—
only great truths stir
the pained world’s revolt”
my miffed lover said,
yet could not deter:
“All verse is a cult…
we thread words for fame
or sanity—or
themselves; and Love’s fault
is Man’s…how all came
forth from dreams held dear
to him, Sensing’s salt
in his wound, the same
hue as Love, its peer.”
Laurence Foshee is a Tulsa, Oklahoman with poetry and prose in Dragon Poet Review, The Drabble, The Tulsa Review, and a forthcoming Oklahoma anthology honoring the memory of The Greenwood District. When not reading and writing poetry, his work in patient transport during the entire first year of the Covid-19 pandemic has driven him to resume pre-health studies and pursue osteopathic medicine. He hopes to find commonalities in helping others within these disparate, higher callings.
