Arsenio Franklin
Author & Depressed House Husband
Category: Writing
Asphalt Tide
On the highway The moon sitting atop a distant bridge Slowly pulling us forward On a tide of asphalt Street lights flash past Dashes become one line But the moon never changes
I Wrote a Poem from a Row of Book Spines
A blank stare at the spine of a Cursed Child. Where on The Farm he learned the Art of a Beautiful Game.
Which is Worse, Nonexistence or Simply Existing?
The death of a former colleague reminds me how inconsequential my life is.
Why You Should Join a Writing Group
How joining Scribophile made me a better writer and how joining a writing group can help you.
Follow The Blog
- National Champions August 21, 2020
- Christmas Dinner August 19, 2020
- Depression Burger Recipe August 16, 2020
- Masterpiece August 13, 2020
- Bible Translation: Genesis Chapter 42 August 12, 2020
