a poem for today, 19 November 2012
[a word-sorted sonnet of seven sentences and its image]
Sometimes I won't leave the house until three or four in the afternoon because I can't decide if I want to wear eyeliner or not.
It's an unequivocal statement, we are deserving of dignity, respect, and equal rights, and until we get it we will act like petulant children.
I hate it when I don't forward a chain email and don't die the next day.
I thought that the medical condition pneumonia and the chemical ammonia were somehow interrelated.
My only sexuality is fear of everything I know as human.
Tomorrow is a luxury you can't afford.
There is only 'us'.
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