

art class, 1st gradeRoads scrawl, Rudimentary inscriptions Across the crude picture landscape below They are drawn raggedly In the black crayon Of a small child Who holds it in his fist. Highways carve Uneven words though Construction paper mountain ranges Cut out with dull scissor By intricate fingers. Paste wads of cloud Smother over the serrated peaks, Salty and thick In their conversation with the land. They are models Of hands and horses that Leap over the muddled roads Which one day, the child will find With his own Hands.art class, 1st grade


FertilizerFertilizerFertilizer
Lies do not come out of closed doors for the better part of valor conceals With efficient professionalism.
Within the suburb houses of perfection Wives release their hatred On the omnipotent crab grass in the window box And mechanically water flaccid amaryllis- The only religion they know.
A good house plant must never take sides So the devil’s backbone on the bedside table And the begonias by the back door Depend on the cycle Of caustic words and sticky-sweet apologies, Forgotten days without water and miracle-gro. The si


A Pair of LoveA Pair of LoveA Pair of Love
Love becomes as trivial as silk panties- Something to put on for the other Delicate and occasional, it loses meaning. We buy Love at K-mart Hanging, mass produced, in disheveled rows Fingered over uncaringly Purchased in all its lacy glory, for 3.99 a pair. Upscale Love is found in Victoria’s Secret,
Tucked away in concealed drawers between candy stripe papers Somehow special When thousands of women own it. Love is hoarded in closets and dressers Saved for special nights And first impressions When black is no longer the color of de
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its soo hard to think of anything snappy to put in a sig. I shall leave mine unnsnappy.
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