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Hello, readers and followers of Where My Poems Go!

This little publication, which is now nearly eighteen months old, has always been a little corner of space where I can share my poetry with you, and for that, I am enormously grateful.

But I have some extra news to share with you today!

After arguing with myself for what feels like the entire span of the Late Cretaceous Period, I’m excited to announce that I have published a book.

The Weight of Need: Poems on Life, Longing, and Love is a collection of poems previously published here on Medium (in…

One is the tantrum-iest number

Photo by Rachel on Unsplash

1.) If Teddy wipes boogers on 548 different surfaces inside the house, how many Clorox wipes will his mommy need to sacrifice to kill all the germs?

2.) Sierra has five hotdogs. She gives one to her little brother as a bribe to keep quiet about who gave the dog a haircut. How many seconds will it take her brother to snitch once he inhales the woe begotten frankfurter?

3.) Liam is on fire because he played with matches. How many scissors should he run through the house with in order to poke out both of his eyes?

4.) Gretta…

Terror, terror everywhere!

Photo by Gabor Monori on Unsplash

So you’re using the public bathroom, already scared out of your wits because there could be COVID germs in addition to all the regular germs when suddenly BLAMO! The toilet flushes at a velocity that would put Niagra Falls during the spring melt to shame. Sure, the adrenaline surge and bloodcurdling screams are fun and all, but then, in a twinkling, it’s over, leaving you pining away for your next terror fix.

That’s why several prominent companies are rolling out the following automatic things. Now you can enjoy bowel-cleansing terror and hands-free sanitary-ness in all your favorite places.

Fast-food drive-thrus

Picture this…

A list poem

Photo by Jr Korpa on Unsplash

The memory of the day I cracked my face against the crisp ice and my grandfather, aged eighty-two, rose up laughing and helped me drag the toboggan back uphill for another frigid run.

The first time I breathed in the blessed notes of Notre Dame cathedral and crept reverently into all the nooks and alcoves I could find to memorize the colored glass and incense and prayers of millions long since passed.

The day I flew a tiny Cessna in shaky circles and realized I could never leave my feet upon the earth for long again.

The fractures earned by…

Elle Rogers

Mommy. Wife. Writer. Lunatic. My debut poetry collection, “The Weight of Need”, is available on Amazon.

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