Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as

You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,

If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response

There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way

Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have

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…

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

spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!

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—