#FreeVerse
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
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…
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
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...
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest