My friend Lesley is kind of a witch. We walk down the beach at Willoughby. She collects shells with loops in them, says hag stones keep evil away since only good can pass through a hole. I don’t know who stole the world. I expect no answers from clams and oysters. As waves cool our […]
DL Pravda
DL Pravda tries to keep it together either by jamming distorted reverb juice in his ears or by driving to the country and disappearing into the woodsfarm dimension. Recent poetry appears in Blue Collar Review, Bookends Review, Poetry Quarterly, Rockvale Review and Spring Hills Review. His book Normal They Napalm the Cottonfields is a past winner of the Dogfish Head Poetry Prize. Pravda teaches at Norfolk State University.