One Sentence Poems

Mike W. Blottenberger On a Humid August Night The katydids and my mother keep repeating themselves. Mike W. Blottenberger is a secret Anne Sexton junkie.    

Mike W. Blottenberger Dear Greta Thunberg I, too, hear the glaciers crying themselves into nothing. Mike W. Blottenberger is a secret Anne Sexton junkie.