#FreeVerse
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
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…
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...
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—