Poems from Lipinski
a rainbow whittled down to a blunt point, pounding trees softened by rain
i just saw
a couple of joyful clouds getting into mischief
i just...
Arghh!
Inside the womb, a piece combined becomes something precious
It is not the child already exploring their world
It is not the actions of...
by they I mean, humans.
uttering a gutteral language of pinched air and pitch
tongue rolling words off the tongue, one after the other...
An auctioneers voice says, "Sold! To you sir, these forty chairs."
Impulsive I suppose but so too, food
$11.00 bid and a journey for...