#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
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…
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,
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
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 career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
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 may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.