crusted
minuscule introversion
the genius of this and that
a pink floor barking
in writer’s block
a voice queued in 3am
curvilinear like
a sous chef’s fingers
sprinkling
castor sugar
on a stop watch
pepper@117
box office cuffs
heeled fudge/onomatooeia
coffees sans bridges/clint eastwood soliloquies
mosquitoes plod ala mules
birthday cards in the hertz rent-a-car
curly hairs in my lisp
she came in war holding glasses
we were second
third magpies thirst like blunt needles
out of the darkness they came
she came in war holding glasses
we watched them bless her
and neither here nor there