#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
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.
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
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
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
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 idea that they were reenacting something which had been staged in the first place bothered her. If she wanted to go on, she’d need to ignore this limp chronology. She assumed he was...
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view