#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse Poem, Prose
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
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…
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—
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.