#FreeVerse
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
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
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.