the thief has made me a gift of his night’s booty …
Wanda Coleman
i want to have your child …
in my last incarnation i inoculated myself …
the gates of mercy slammed on the right foot. …
associations: years of being ashamed/my sometimes …
This year the leaves turn red green black …
dear Georgiana, …
after the war the war begins the war goes on …
and then there are the one-hit zombies …
the winged thang built her dream palace …
what bohunkian images i have of you …
tired i count the ways in which it determines my life …
can kill you …
overcome by the stink of mildewed wash, i have …