Poetic license:

I have heard the term, Poetic License most of my life, and I always wondered exactly what it meant. It finally came home to roost one evening, while I was sitting through a poet’s reading. It must be a license that gives an unwashed whiner the legal right to bore a person to death with an hour or so of mind numbing woe and incomprehensible drivel. After dozing through that long drawn out affair, I thought about getting a hunting license and seeing if I could tree that varmint. The way I see it, that would be Poetic Justice.

 Books by Lou Bradshaw available on Amazon Kindle

 A Fine Kettle of Fish – Hickory Jack – Blue – Ace High – Blue Norther – Cain

–  One Man Standing – And  available Now – Rubio

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