I feel like time is working against me,
Prolonging the day's hours and minutes...

I twist and chew and braid
my hair backwards, leaving...

At first, you assume it's going to be
easy, stripping the wallpaper off...

Stop, let me brush my teeth.
Let me brush off those youthful...

The nude grain is a sage effortless thinker
who memorizes the swift stages of the sun...

-0-
Even if our love making...

Time is cut off,
like the airway to my breathing...

I'm the stranger in my own story....
I wear no mask - nothing shades my...

Is there anything in me that is desirable?
Do I convey softness or are my approaches...

It's funny how a single question
can make all the difference...

I thought this poem would be about me,
typed up in a gloomy room where moonlight...

You may question the motives
of the hanging sun...