#FreeVerse
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
It’s as if we’ve just been turned… in order to learn that the beetle we’ve caught and are now devouring is our elder brother
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
The idea that they were reenacting something which had been staged in the first place bothered her. If she wanted to go on, she’d need to ignore this limp chronology. She assumed he was...
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as