frees? fuses? flees?
I can hear a far-off song coming
through the microphone behind her words
my flesh is sloughing off
you're not in California anymore
Mass ruined me
for poetry readings
tune in turn off drop out?
huh?
tune out
my irreverence switched on
immediately
I stole that time back
Sometimes I just go somewhere else
They called me cerebral and
they were partly right
The throat makes sounds
close to the brain
my journal is my boyfriend
the city is my boyfriend
is it still
feminism
it's an idea we can all agree on
"just an image, but it has potential"
a surprising result of going through
something terrible
is ending up right back where
you started
"mass ruined me/ for poetry readings" ! This poem is so insightful - another kind of attention
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