POETS PLACE
OCTOBER EDITION
2025
Hello friends! Thank you for reading my column! Here we can share our poetry, short stories, prose, song lyrics, etc., as well as view artwork from those who submit them. What a fun column this is!!! Everyone is welcome to submit! Anytime! We publish every month, rain or shine! No experience necessary. Just write something and submit it. Lately my writing has been in the political vain. It’s what is coming out of my head and into my mouth. Spewing more likely out of my mouth. As always, we have an array of writers this month. So delighted and grateful for your continued supports!!!
Thank you !!!!
Love, Linda :0)
Pussy Power
By Linda Kaye
Unlock the gates step into the crowd, cock the Glock, and raise your fist.
It's not too late to join in the fight resist the right and stop their might
fight fire with fire the Gav says- we will win solidarity in resistance!
We will not comply with their insistence
laws and love do not empower
massive strength will defend our tower
We will claim our state as sanctuary
We will secede and be one dormitory
Our country California with
40 million residents where the state fruit is the avocado and the state insect is the California dog face butterfly
We already have a place where all can grow marijuana and artichokes
where the desert tortoise can be free from racist judgment
where surfing plays a role in all things magnificent
to dance West Coast swing at dinner parties without fear from republican rebels
California is the fourth largest economy in the world, leads the nation in agriculture
production, the center of entertainment, global technology, music, sports, and fashion
What are we waiting for?
Let's get this secession started.
Who's in??
I vote yes!!
Sixth Expedition
By Don Kingfisher Campbell
On my first trip
Survival was not guaranteed
I put on my suit
And watched my fellow
Astronaut jump ship
I was saved by a back-up
Who eagerly joined
Our joint mission
Only to lose oxygen
And float slowly away
I was lucky I found
A new craft to ride
Into another cosmos
Here I discovered all
Adventure must end
So I leaped out
From the spiraling craft
Landed in a better position
I was in celestial heaven
Zooming through the universe
Of course we crashed
I was left adrift in space
No foothold to hold onto
Until I became my own vessel
Now I am finally flying
On an albeit bumpy but
Smooth passage of planets
Picked up my own crew
We conquer the galaxies
Look forward to immortality
Or not, there might always be
A seventh journey awaiting
Where the unknown can
Annihilate any belief
With spare cold eternity
Don Kingfisher Campbell, MFA Antioch University L.A., taught at USC and Occidental College Upward Bound, board member California Poets In The Schools, publisher Four Feathers Press, host of the Saturday Afternoon Poetry reading and workshop series in Pasadena, California. For awards, features, and publication credits, please go to: http://dkc1031.blogspot.com
I Love You…
By: IE Carlo
9 July 2025
I love you now
I loved you then
I’ll love you tomorrow
I wanted you then
I want you now
I’ll want you tomorrow
I crave you now
I craved you then
I’ll crave you tomorrow
My heart aches now
My heart ached yesterday
My heart will ache tomorrow
My heart will crave you always
I will stay loyal always in this thought you know that for
I’ve told you so
In my body you still remain
You will stay in me always
You’re in me today
Sweet is that love I craved yesterday
Sweet is that love I felt yesterday
Sweet is this love I feel for you today
Sweet will be that love I’ll feel for you in eternity
Ismael (East) Carlo As of this writing I am 83 years of age. My stage name, Ismael “East” Carlo came about due to those unable to pronounce it correctly, which is understandable. If you have ever read “MOBY DICK?”, the opening line o the book is: “Call me Ishmael”, close enough. The story of my beginning as an actor, came about due to a depressing moment. No thoughts of suicide, but what are you going to do with your life?, At 30 years old a decision had to be made. C M Y CM One day a friend came to visit and he said, “Get dress we're going to see a play on Broadway”. Ironically the title of the play? “NO PLACE TO BE SOMEBODY”. Fitting since I was at a crossroads in life. As we left the theater I was so inspired I had a premonition and I told my friend, I'm going to become an actor! and he replied “Go For It!”. Not too much longer I moved to Miami Florida. I remember meeting a woman who said I should consider modeling. Me? A Model? I took the advice and signed up at the Glen Jones Modeling agency since I was particular about mens fashion! MY CY CMY K While at the agency I met a man that had 3 missing fingers and a pot belly. I asked, “Are you a model?”, He replied, “No I’m an actor looking for work”. The irony of the business. While in Miami I began taking acting classes for five dollars a class. I immediately landed acting roles and landed my first acting gig. I was cast in “Damon Runyon's”, Guys and Dolls, playing the part of Big Julie. Followed by “Carib”, starring, Carl Franklin and Stacy Keach. Over the years I honde in on my craft for acting and I decided to leave for HOLLYWOOD. Luck must have been with me. As an extra I had the pleasure of working with Sidney Pointier and I began landing roles in soap operas, TV and Features Films. Off Broadway and theater music was my other passion. While trying to make a living between gigs I met a man by the name of Bobby Matos. Bobby Matos was a talented musician who encouraged me to begin writing and performing poetry. It wasn’t long after we started recording and producing music. As a result of this connection we created our music label, “Cafe Con Bagels”. Together we had a vision of promoting music and sought out other talented musicians to collaborate with. Our artistic expression was starting to bloom! I can say of myself that show business has been a wonderful experience. An awakening of senses and gratitude of being in a field with exceptional creative talent. I can go through a litany with whom I've worked with, but no need it's promoted on IMDB.
"Skies of Angel's Autumn Wind”
By Lida Parent Harris
8/27/25. 5:10 p.m
Pour into the soil softly;
thine roots peel upon the
my simple skin.
Does it tempt me to hide,
or watch as the leaves of fall cover the floor?
Drink all the spiced cider
in my garden,
wrestled against the cool night air into submission.
My warm feet now in my slippers rest with content.
I somehow notice that all the birds are tapping along,
the angel's wings of this
southernmost song.
Peace in abundance,
a smile shifts and deepens
ever closer to a new memory.
A hormony.
Lovejoy to all.
Lida began her writing career in 2001 when she began attending Open-mic events in the San Fernando Valley. She met wonderful friends in a coffeehouse, and soon her life and world opened.
Lida attended Community Literature Initiative instructed by Hiram Sims. It was a writing course at USC which gave her new roots.
Her first book of poetry was published in 2015, by World Stage Press. She enjoyed performing in new venues, and creating her own shows called Lyrical Flames, in 2014.
Since then, Lida has performed her poetry in Las Vegas, Chicago, Santa Monica, Long Beach, North Holland, ArtShare LA, Leimert Park, Grand Park, and The Los Angeles Times Book Festival.
Lida is currently a mentor and dedicates her time to teach poetry for adults for The Los Angeles County Department of Mental Health. She is also taking Drumming and writes song lyrics for new realms of creativity.
BEHOLD GILEAD 1
By Keith Kurlander
This piece from the DISOBAY series fuses pop art with dystopian commentary, portraying a surreal gathering beneath a towering cross. Cloaked figures stand in solemn formation as three central figures oversee them, evoking themes of obedience, power, and faith. The vibrant halftone sky in neon red and yellow clashes against the dark, shadowed figures, creating a psychedelic tension between control and resistance. DISOBAY challenges viewers to question authority, ritual, and conformity through bold color, sharp contrast, and provocative symbolism.
Keith Kurlander “I've always been a creative soul, I make art, music, music videos, TV shows, films and mayhem. If you want to learn all about my fascinating life here's a good place to start.”
KEITH KURLANDER, THE E. TRUE HOLLYWOOD STORY
https://youtu.be/p3er5ptzZTA
LINK TO MUSIC https://www.idiot-savant.net/
More Art at: https://www.artpal.com/disobay & Music at https://www.idiot-savant.net/
SCARY STUFF
By Mary Cheung
10-1-2021
7:33 a.m.
Spooky Halloween
Heart pounds, blood rushes.
Now I'm feeling faint.
Falling for someone is scary.
R u a devil or a Saint?
Every day is Halloween when it comes to matters of the heart.
Too scared to expose it.
Where would I even start?
Secrets lurking, you keep it all in the dark.
know nothing about you.
Let me rip into your heart.
U give me thrills with your intense icy stare.
don't know if you even notice, or if you even care.
Scared of not knowing, of finding, sorting the truth from the lies.
Jumble of words in my mind.
Which ones do I choose?
Which ones will make you mine?
Hocus pocus, just give me a brew.
So I can intoxicate, and put a spell on you.
Drag me down into your cold and dark, eerie world.
Down down I go, kicking and screaming,
Let my pleasure unfurl.
Witches and goblins, I can do.
The real terror lies in opening myself up to you.
So until I find the strength to bear it all and be exposed.
I'll just be a zombie walking through life.
Until that crazy someone injects me with life...
reanimating my soul.
Mary Cheung is a multi-disciplinary artist. She has been creating art since she was little. Youngest in a family of eight. She came to America at the age of 2 and grew up in San Francisco. Attended American school during the day and Chinese school at night.
Mary has an AA degree in Fashion Design and a Best Costume Design Award from the NAACP. She often creates costumes for her art narratives and creations.
She was the recipient of 3 grants in 2024 and the Denis Diderot and Emerging Artist award. She has art exhibited and published locally and Internationally.
Her real passion and drive come from being able to engage the community while bringing hope, healing, joy, and human connection.
It is her goal to be able to continue to do this while making an impact on society’s values and thinking. “I hope that I can be a role model for others to find their own true voice in life through my art."
multiple thoughtgasms.
by daniel j. schack
eat cake. There were many who may not have had it out for me. Many of them did not have it for me either.
koo koo. Nowadays, perhaps more than ever before in history, the sane act insane and the insane act sane. Law. Just as I am ready to do anything within the law to succeed, I also add that I am ready to do that plus whatever is within the law, no matter what it may be. ha. ha.
daniel j. schack is an online artist/poet who studied 3 years of college and graduated high school. he also has an unusual tiktok video under danielschack7 and his art can be seen on tumblr.com-adanthemanworld
Limericks
By Jackie Chou
Two poets couldn't agree
Whether verses should rhyme or be free
Too restrictive the former
Too unruly the latter
Eye to eye they could not see
Jackie Chou (she/her) is a writer from Southern California who has two collections of poetry, The Sorceress and Finding My Heart in Love and Loss, published by cyberwit. Her poem "Formosa" was a finalist in the Stephen A DiBiase Poetry Prize. She also has poems published in Synchronized Chaos, The Ekphrastic Review, Panoply Zine, Alien Buddha Zine, and Spillwords.
By the Sea
By Anna Mathai
I found you, by the sea.
Rocky, salty,
Sweetened by an unexpected breeze
When I recognized something in your eyes as you looked at me.
Maybe I was wild like the ocean,
All calmed by he
With a past shared but unspoken
That proved it all to be.
Anna Mathai is an Indian-American multidisciplinary artist based in Los Angeles, California. She frequently uses Venetian plaster and other plasters in her work. Her abstract works reference both the natural world and our internal ‘landscapes’ of emotion, blurring both real and intangible. She often touches on concepts of femininity, rebellion, and otherness, with a touch of mysticality, in her figurative work. By pairing her writing with her visual art practice, Mathai creates an extra dimension in which viewers can experience her art and a loose construct to guide their own internal process of understanding. Mathai was born in the UK, but spent most of her childhood in the rural Deep South, which heavily influenced the concepts she explores in her art. Her work has been awarded, published, and exhibited globally. You can find her at www.byMathai.com or on Instagram @byMathai.
Banana Soup
By Darren Hembd
It was all based on that olde pop song: “Hot dog, banana soup; I can make it just for you; If you wait a little longer; You get banana stew.” There was more, but I don't feel like making up anymore of it.
“Mainly because it's not the important part,” I continued, after indenting for a new paragraph. “I mean, we *all* know about bananas, and soup? Of course. So, with the ‘banana soup,' we're sufficiently.”
A story character walked by One Page Soupery, and heard that song playing on their outdoor speakers. Why they did that is between them and the Ghost King—not my concern. The character is Thompson.
“I'm the one that heard the song,” revealed the slightly feathered running shoes of Thompson. He winked to You as he said this via winking waves. “I want you to know about my reaction to it.” (p.113)
But we won't find out anytime soon. You see, this song is not about the story, and the story is not about Thompson. Though, I *may* change my mind, should the fancy come about. It's up to the -Stars-.
“I'm guessing they *will*,” revealed a Star People, from the very stars above. “It's become *such* a belaboured deal, after all.” And then back to Star People business, far, far away in ... Space!
Some people have tried to make banana soup at home—a rookie mistake. For you see, banana soup can *only* be made so in a +soupery+. It's like a soup kitchen but, BUT it involves - Soup Age Sorcery-.
“After people discovered hot water,” began the lecture of Prof. Leaning Shades (age 43), “They began to experiment with soup.” Using a combination of handouts and large diagrams, we learned more. QED.
I was utterly *fascinated* with what I learned, which in regular times was what I already knew. That's what you call a ‘redundant prophesy,’ used primarily to mislead You and clear Your throat some.
“Oh, great. Now I have dialogue,” Your eyes rolled. “So much for my peaceful afternoon at the One Page Park.” Though, once this story ends, it's back to watching some dogs catching novelty flying discs.
Where were we? Ah, yes. The souperies of downtowne. Our quest to find the *perfect* banana soup began. I hurled a backpack over all my shoulders after having laced my adventure shoes. You can stay home.
“I'll do the adventuring for the two of us,” I winked at You via adventure waves. “You can stay at home and learn of my exploits.” I also left some change for the machine, in case You had laundry to do.
What seemed like -Sentences- later, I made it to that soupery, with one thing, and *only* one thing on my private mind: banana soup. If I was patient enough, I could survive standing in the short line.
“Who's next?” wondered the souperista. Her name was Captain, and yes, she's heard *all* the jokes already. “Hey, you. Writer. Come on up and try the banana soup.” It was as if she had a - Premonition-.
I tried it, sure. It wasn't *so* bad, mostly due in part to all of the excessive salt and sugar and, AND I wouldn't mind recommending people try it at least once. It makes that one song *seem* memorable.
The Soupery.
Darren Hembd survivor of abuse processing trauma into works of fiction.
https://substack.com/@darrenhembd
It’s Already
By Dean Okamura
depressing, but the world
appeared to change
just because Trump
made some headlines.
It's gotten into our heads,
like rats running mazes
in our brains, and
clogging the sewers.
Some day, we’ll see,
we will cast it out --
not like a demon,
but like a bad penny.
PS: how we doin'
with the change
in our pockit?
Dean resides in Torrance. There is so much happening in this world, but he can only comment in small poems.
Where Nothing Dies
By Richard Russeth
Someone I love is dying
on the only planet I know
where there is life that dies.
Perhaps there’s a place
where nothing dies,
but here, in this world,
a new born babe
becomes an old woman
slowly leaving
her lovely life behind.
We’ll scatter her ashes
in a flower garden,
where her children
and grandchildren
can watch her bloom
and disappear,
year after year,
until the flowers become
merely beautiful again.
Richard Russeth is a poet, novelist, magician, retired lawyer & human being. His first poetry collection, entitled "Ghost Heart", will be released by Finishing Line Press in 2026.
WHAT A WOMAN WANTS or
The Tale of How Gawaine met Ragnell and Learned Love
by Matthew DeHaven
I.
Sir Gawaine, Brave Knight of the Table Round,
was in all his Adventures, Tried and True.
Tho', now in a Quand'ry he himself found.
The greatest Dilemma he had e'er knew.
"I must find the Answer" Sir Gawaine said,
"and find it right soon, else lost is my head!"
II.
The deal he'd done made, and now wished he'd not,
was with the Green Knight, from bottom to top,
to solve a Riddle, the best the Green's got.
If not, the Green Knight, his head would off chop!
Here 'tis the Riddle, the one that does haunt:
"In all the World What Does A Woman Want?
III.
The journey was cruel, our hero Gawaine,
tireless, fighting uphill this battling Quest.
Time, no friend of his, so little remained,
the Green Knight would lay him soon to his Rest.
"O Mighty Maker, again I will pray
Your heavenly help, send swiftly my way!"
IV.
As if by Magick, ‘twixt him and the Green,
appeared an ancient, stooped and foul smelling Crone.
An uglier creature he had ne'er seen.
And there in midroad she stood by her own.
"Answer me, Milady, answer me, please!"
But with no question she could not with ease.
V.
"What is it, M'lord" She cackled and cracked.
"What is your Question? What is your Will?"
Gawaine silent froze, his head soon off hacked!
The Green Knight approaching down yonder hill.
Then with a burst the damn Riddle he hurled-
"What Wants A Woman In All The Wide World?"
VI.
"What Wants A Woman In All The Wide World?"
repeated the hag with glee and delight.
"The Answer to that, I've known since a girl."
(In his position she'd better be right.)
"I'll speak what it is, I will not tarry.
Promise me first, ‘tis me you will Marry."
VII.
To look at her face, he'd rather be dead.
To Live or to Die, each way would be Hell.
Surely next he'd have to lie in her bed.
Alack! No Choice had he. (Oh, and that smell!)
My name is Gawaine, and I swear by my Life,
Be me your Husband, if be you my Wife.
VIII.
"My name is Ragnell, I've something to say.
What We Want Most is the Right to Decide!
Men cannot always be havin' their way.
And for our Judgements, our Conscience will guide.
What a Woman Wants? Is her Sovereignty!
That's the Answer. Blessed Be! Blessed Be!"
IX.
Gawaine had his Answer, ‘twas ne'er more right.
Nor the Green Knight any other sign gave.
Defeated the Green rode into the light
and to Gawaine, an Adieu he did wave.
Gawaine felt relief at keeping his head.
Cruel Fate tho' beckons, for he swore to Wed!
X.
To the bedchamber, the story does move,
Where Ragnell, the bride, did patiently wait.
Gawaine's promise kept, it did him behoove,
a Round Table's Knight is never ingrate.
Inside Gawaine stepped, and who would this be?
The most beaut'ous Ladye e'er he did see!
XI.
"What Vision is this? Mine eyes do deceive!
Some Mischief on me the Heavens ordain!"
"I be your Wife, sir, you wish me to leave?
Me thinks I stay, sir, henceforth shall explain.
Cursed, lo these many years I have been.
Half the day I'm old Crone, half a Maiden."
XII.
"Husband, half the day have you my Beauty.
Yet, the other half, I am Old and Grey.
The daylight promises your friends to see me
or the night in our bedroom I will stay.
Dearest, no Enchantment's without it's hitch.
Half the day with my Beauty, which, sir, which?"
XIII.
Gawaine did not stammer, nor did he jest,
"I cannot tell you the which way to live.
It's your Decision, you choose what's best.
I'll honor your choice- whatever you give. "
Betwixt and Between! Sacred and Strange!
Above and Below! Everything must Change!
"The Curse, it is broken" Ragnell did laugh,
"I am your Beauty, happily e'er aft'!"
XIV.
Thus ends the story of brave Sir Gawaine,
who both sides of Ragnell, saw and learned love.
Together they lived, the Knight and the Dame.
One be thee the Hand, the other the Glove.
Swains, Respect the Ladyes! By Earth, Moon, and Stars!
Sovereign and Free to be all they are.
Matthew DeHaven is an actor, artist and writer living in Pasadena. He likes to create narrative poetry in iambic pentameter and rhyme that harkens back to Shakespearian times
Last Chapter
By R.G. Carrillo (Summer 2025)
Tempering the trauma
Of our youth
The soul journeys on
The ripples in our waters
Expand and smooth out
With the edges
Of our maturity
Making our peace
With the past
We are strengthened
Now more able
To be of service
To mankind
The wheel of time
Spinning toward
That last chapter
Reflection and pause
Prayer and gratitude
I made it this far
Our lives like novels
We are the protagonist
Secondary characters
Move in and out of our lives
Others are more permanent
In our story development
Some of my characters
Have become dead bodies
They haunt my storyline
Past ghosts that inhabit
My memories
I move on
Trying to focus
On the present
Moonlight of enchantment
Stars of conception
Still inspire my gaze
Upward toward the heavens
I was going down
A rabbit hole
A sink hole of depression
Leaving a false impression
Of who I thought I should be
This status quo image
A mold I did not fit
My carefully created
Foundation slipping
A landslide of past trauma
Coming to the forefront
A biological earthquake
Discovering the fairytale
Was a fake
I am awake
With my eyes closed
To this reality
Of worldly violence
I want to return
To my cocoon
My dreams
Covered in amber
Growing wings
To leave this place
Of existence
Rain clouds with no moisture
All my moves were toward him
He moves me
Romantic empty spaces
He once occupied
Now hardly moved emotionally
An improved perspective
All the falsehoods
Wash ashore
Like corpses
Fantasies see the light
With no fairytale endings
The beginning of sorrows
In these United States
Birth pains in the global world
The democratic stitching
Being stretched
To a serious
Breaking point
The immigrant flock
Is scattered
An anemic democracy
Waiting to spill blood
Brother fighting brother
Once again
White erosion
Creating cracks
Mixed new race blood
This American hybrid
Being dismissed
Like Jazz truly authentic
New world invention
Can provide energy
To a changing democracy
This republic born in blood
Holocaust of indigenous natives
WASP whitewash
That has exceeded its time
Restore the elasticity
Of our nation
Invigorate the soil
Of this democracy
Once you seeked
The homeless
Yearning to breath free
To your shore
Now they are captured
Like criminals
A new slavery
To make America great again
But the king
Knows not he
Wears no clothes
Only plays golf
Raising tariffs on our allies
Trumpeting threats
Coming to nothing
Melania missing
But her parents
Got in free
Paranoid chaos in D.C.
The presidency selling
Watches shoes trading cards
A den of thieves
Utilizing the White House
To sell junk
Making backdoor deals
With a sexual predator
Something stinks
The orange man
Playing shady
And underhanded
To avoid more felonies
Heartland America
Put out to dry
Bible belt and breadbasket
Faltering in factories and farms
Ultra conservative magas
Add to the fire of division
Soon all will come
Tumbling down
Just a scam
From the orange man
The big lie
Followed by
The big scam
The sheep
Temporarily distracted
Only to find
A wolf at their door
The piggies scatter
Migrant male voices
Labor in the American
Landscape
American academia
Being attacked
ICE agents
In the field
To catch mice
Authoritarian elements
Release their poison
On constitutional foundations
Time to wake up
The masses asleep
Succumbing to the kool-aid
Drinking with fentanyl lips
No longer able to speak
Or kiss only intake
Junk food democracy scraps
And bits of rotten cake
Ronald G. Carrillo is a native Lincoln Hts Angelino, living in Eagle Rock and a retired LAUSD educator and influencer. He writes of his passion and rebirth into the golden age of living. He has been writing since high school and was initially influenced from the songwriters, Keith Reid, Joni Mitchell, Laura Nyro, Neil Young.
THANKS FOR JOINING US!!!!
Please submit your written work to: lindakayepoetry@icloud.com
and include a short bio
Linda Kaye writes poetry, curates poetry, produces films, spoken word and art events and produces a poetry column POETS PLACE for the online publication LAARTNEWS throughout the Los Angeles area. She recently exhibited her first piece of artwork! A photograph taken in Waikiki, was represented at the Los Angeles Makery gallery’s REFLECTION:RESILIENCE show curated by the Arroyo Arts Collective.
Linda’s poetry events have included several summer poetry salons, and shows at the Los Angeles Makery, the Align Gallery, 50/50 Gallery, Gold Haus Gallery, Ave 50 Gallery and Rock Rose Gallery in Highland Park, The Manifesto Café in Hermon, Pilates and Arts studio in Echo Park, and Native Boutique, Zweet Café in Eagle Rock. And at the Neutra Institute Gallery and Museum in Silverlake. Her first short documentary film “BORDER POETS” was a socially and politically inspired event with poets and musicians filmed at the border wall near Tecate, Mexico on the Jacumba, Ca. side of the US. The film co-produced by MUD productions is available for viewing on her website and on youtube. https://youtu.be/5Te4-dlhxco
Her rap music video project in collaboration with Mary Cheung, “ERACE-ISM” can also be seen on youtube. https://youtu.be/NfrbveNUBgg This video was accepted into the Ontario Museum of History & Art show “We the People” Yesterday, Today, and Tomorrow. February 2- April 16, 2023. So honored!!
And… February 19, 2022, she debuted her staged poetry production of “20 Years Left” at the historic Ebell Club in Highland Park! Two sold out shows with 2 standing ovations!! Check out the links to reviews and the video!
https://thehollywoodtimes.today/20-years-left-new-show-performance-poetry-music/
20 Years Left youtube live stream 2/19/22
Linda Kaye is a native Angeleno who grew up in the San Fernando Valley. She claims to be both a first-generation Valley Girl, and The Original Hipster. Educated at Antioch University and Cal State Long Beach in psychology and social work. Linda, now retired from medical social work, was working for her last seven years of employment as a psychotherapist and licensed clinical supervisor for an out patient mental health clinic. She was a licensed medical social worker for 30+ years working on the front line of healthcare, a private consultant for Physicians Aid Association and for skilled nursing facilities throughout California and Arizona. She was also an adjunct assistant professor at the USC Suzanne Dworak-Peck School of Social Work. Oh yeah.
www.lindakayepoetry.com
Twitter/Instagram: lindakayepoetry
http://voyagela.com/interview/daily-inspiration-meet-linda-kaye/https://
shoutoutla.com/meet-linda-kaye-poet-poetry-and-theatrical-producer-filmmaker/