Tag Archives: The Woman Cuts My Bullshit to the Bone

In Praise of a Great Bookseller

After thirty-seven jobs, Janice King found her spot in the high chair behind the cashier’s counter raised like a pulpit in the corner of the Golden Notebook, Woodstock’s beloved independent bookstore. By the time I got to know her she … Continue reading

Posted in Poems | Tagged , , , , , , | Comments Off on In Praise of a Great Bookseller