I don’t often distinguish between my poems that are based on real experience or straight up fiction. However, I feel compelled to admit that this one is utterly non-fiction. I treated myself to a tea at this great coffee shop that’s quickly becoming my go-to place for a cup-o-joe, and the next thing I knew I’d written this poem.
Cheers to Picasso’s in good ol’ St. Charles and cheers to Wednesdays.
–Leanne Rebecca
She's in Prison 