chicago poetry. poetry for a people. poetry for a moment. poetry to satiate the need. poetry of an american outlaw. poetry for the best words in their best order. poetry by Jhon Baker
Friday, January 21, 2011
It was -25 this morning with the wind chill. So I went for a motorcycle ride. I died.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
oh you mad man!!
ReplyDeleteit's a balmy -18 here...you may have survived.
Shoulda worn a hat.
ReplyDeleteLong johns would have saved you..
ReplyDeleteyou'll catch a cold out there...
ReplyDelete