#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
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
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
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…
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
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
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
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