The Streets, Like Flowers, Come Alive in the Rain

I rarely sit down to write a poem. I generally just wait for them to come along. The majority of these poems came together quickly and were often written in batches. In saying that, I hope there is variety here. The usual things are covered: love, hate, spite, rage, hope, the wonder of small things, the passing of time, how reggae is the worst type of music, but hopefully they are considered and written about in unusual and interesting ways. Either way, they are honest, from the heart, and maybe, more importantly, the stomach. Steve Denehan