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June 8, 2019
To agree with my step. Language,
clouds. They float. I want
Bobbypinned, echo. An imitation
of linked pages: trimmed. The same
is not different. It is the same.
A migration of lyric, facts. This poem
an integral part
of a research-based process.
July 26, 2018
The President’s House is empty
Corollary. Endured, a whitewash. Literally. A golem’s chance. Not just him, though you have
marked. Resist! Is neither obsolete. We will not fall. An empty chamber, fueled. All strapped.
Collective impulse, impulse, falsehood. Airbrushed,...