#AmericanWriters
Monday The world is a ball of water. See, it is round-sided. I move across its topside, upon the world, not in it.
I show her how to put her arms aro… but she’s much too small. What’s worse, she doesn’t understa… And although she lies beside me, stick…
Stop bleeding said the kn… I would if I could said… Stop bleeding you make me… I’m sorry said the cut. Stop or I will sink in f…
The popcorn is greasy, and I forg… A pill that’s a bomb inside the st… The Embassy blows up. Eructations… cauliflowers giganticize into moti… screen is orange, is crackling fle…
In the pond in the park all things are doubled: Long buildings hang and wriggle gently. Chimneys are bent legs bouncing
Beards of water some of them have. Others are blowing whistles of wat… Faces astonished that constant wat… jumps from their mouths.
Blue, but you are Rose, too, and buttermilk, but with blood dots showing through. A little salty your white nape boy-wide. Glinting hairs
When in the mask of night there sh… we were riddled. A probe reached d… and stroked some nerve in us, as if the glint from a wizard’s ey… slanted out of the mask of the unk…
Feel like A Bird understand he has no hand instead A Wing close-lapped
It’s about… the ball,… the bat,… and the mitt. th… Ball hits…
Fruit without a stone, its shiny pulp is clear green. Inside, tiny black microdot seeds. Skin the color of khakiImagine a shaggy brown-green pelt
Little lion face I stopped to pick among the mass of thick succulent blooms, the twice streaked flanges of your silk
A smudge for the horizon that, on a clear day, shows the hard edge of hills and buildings on the other coast. Anchored boats all head one way:
The binocular owl, fastened to a limb like a lantern all night long, sees where all
We move by means of our mud bumps. We bubble as do the dead but more… The products of excruciating purge… we are squeezed out thin hard and… If we exude a stench it is petrifi…