a poem for today, 2 September 2012
[a letter sorted sonnet of fourteen sentences and its image]
I am a girl and I am sorry if it is late.
You know, cortisone is my favorite.
Write me a postcard when you finish.
I can't be the queen you need me to be.
I feel like things are winding down.
She ordered those tears from China.
I'm sorry if I've been distracted.
Being born is like being kidnapped.
Everything was wrong and awkward.
Deviants are thriving in the wild.
Only you can know whether I am spam.
Can’t get much prettier than this.
My hard drive needs your software.
Subsequent developments reveal the naiveté of this optimism.