#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
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…
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
