#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
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
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
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
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
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 doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,