#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
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
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
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…
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.