Michael Estabrook: poems

Editor back-issues, poetry

Not Me Who could have imagined I’d be sitting here on my numb ass in this stuffy, gray, meeting room hunched over a big shiny boardroom table discussing the customer response to our security of supply business continuity plan and rollout instead of on the latest research vessel out of Woods Hole collecting phytoplankton and zooplankton, jellyfish larva and sea…

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