#FreeVerse
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
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...
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
So these are the hills of home. H… nearly subliminal. To see them is… double, hear bad puns delivered wi… An untoward familiarity. Rising from my sleep, the road is…
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.