All Mine!
A subtle genius
(sartorially speaking—
and otherwise too).
Three hundred credits,
four minors and a major!
And there's more to come.
Speaking in public
"emperor's new clothes"
olive face: olive.
Weather won rites, like:
"men rape one in five women"
heel go know farther.
P.M.S. knowledge
more than the designer has,
more than the printer has.
Like the prettiest
of all the tropical birds,
she'll be turning blue.
Pi (3.14)
Golden ratio (1.6)
Her (5.89)
Go ask anyone
(who enjoys all the wrong songs):
"isn't she ugly?"
Buying her the world
would do nothing compared to
writing a letter.
I am all alone
until I feel that buzzing.
They are all alone.
Running in Lascaux
while relaxing in Nha Trang
is personified.
Even if I wed
a best-friend conglomerate,
I'd be left wanting.
Matrimony with
an entire stadium
sans polygamy.
Like if the army
was pretty and okay with
sharing the power.
When played all at once
her formula for tears scores
sixty and four points.
We were invited,
but we took a secret oath
and then turned it down.
My dear teacher of
natural conversation,
the art of 'shaka'.
Their names are picked out,
but Jasper and Exhilda's
diet is unclear.
Thank you, Obama.
Pre-existing condition:
all facial features.
Long natural hair
vital organs are still dyed
every other week.
Not eschew the things
certain to tear swell and flush—
buy, feed, and name them.
Record setting heat.
Meteorologists stunned,
scientists baffled.
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