#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women #FreeVerse
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
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...
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”