DREDGE by David K. Adams (Near the jetties at Saint Andrews State Park in Panama City Beach, Florida) the boat pumps millions of dollars spent and from the sump mud and sand and dying fish gush through the pipe to dry in the sun and the bulldozer shoves the sand to cover the boulder rocks and when all is done Hurricane Ivan blows sand from its nomad roam back into the Gulf and children climb the stones and sneak in the secret of its shadows and, again, the drones pipe up the millions to re-cover the stones. |
Who is David Adams?"I am a writer, working on a novel," he says, "and I attended Seaside Writers Conference at Seaside, Florida, in 2003. I almost sold a house when I was in Real Estate down here in Florida, but after six months I became despondent and just could not do that anymore. I drink Corona Beer (sometimes with lime and sometimes without). Maybe if I got a regular job I would have better feelings about life, but I think I never would have written DREDGE if that had happened -- I would rather be a sour writer than not a writer at all. So my biography is that I am a Rosedalian [Mississippi] who resides as a Floridian, but as a writer in residence."
Read the poetry of another Mississippi writer, Bonnie B. Horton:
POEMS
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