#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
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!
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
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…
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
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...
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
