#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
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