#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
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
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
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…
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
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,
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
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...
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
