sentences on sentences
I manage to write a handful of poems on sentences, but really, they turn out to be illustrations on sentence-making, organized by subject. Here’s one such poem, written in bed:
Sentences on Sadness
I admit I have been terribly sad.
While writing this sentence, I am weeping.
The danger is that the situational, slowly, but always, becomes habitual.
That awkward figure, God, made us coats of skins.
We make our children coats of skins too.
Sensical, borne as she was from nonsensical, floats above and beyond her mother.
What is left is like a mist hovering, threatening not to disappear, and threatening in
I am worried about worry, what it does to the body, to the psyche.
How it has its way with me while I sleep, while I winnow down the list, while I wipe
more asses than I own.
I was told that there are activities better done for twenty minutes every day than
for hours once a week.
In this way, perhaps writing and exercising are akin to crying.
As far as sentences go, I fear mine are unventursome. Eventually, the titles of the sentence poems I mean to write far outnumber those actually written.
Sentences on Contraception
Sentences on Lenten Waiting
Sentence on War
Sentences on Dreams about Nightmares
Sentences on Nightmares about Dreams
Sentences on Stealing
Sentences on Preschool
Sentences on It
Sentences on Shitting
Sentences on Seaboards
Sentences on Shapes
Sentences on Falling (off a chair, swing, hammock or bed)
Sentences on So-and-So
Sentences on Cereal
Sentences on If-Then Configurations
Sentences on Illegitimate Rape
Sentences on Husbands
& of course
Sentences on Sentences