#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
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?”
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
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.
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
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!