#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
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
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
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
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way