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liz-b
Whisper
American
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If this poem can be / called stream of / consciousness, then this
5
Jul 3, 2010
AS CHILDREN DO
Hot breath creaks inside my chest, groans / my slats with pearly condensation. / I am twenty – and I am warped,
15
Jul 3, 2010
NOT YET
NOT YET – / mad is the little girl, tongue to teeth / sliver drinking the draft
18
Jul 3, 2010
Counting into the Ground, or Writing and Dying in a Numerical World
Desperate / cry! The Sapiens / climb out of molded
41
Jul 3, 2010
WHAT YOU SEE IS
What you see is / a body melting, / puddled and red running
8
Jul 3, 2010
SINK BLOSSOM
Wet enough, / a paper cup / will wilt in
5
Jul 3, 2010
LESSONS IN COUNTING
a sedan in an alley can / hold one child, one adult / and two swallows
20
Jul 3, 2010
SONNET ON CONSEQUENCE
The effect of you was that / I could not say three words / or breathe enough. At
14
Jul 3, 2010
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