the teens yell about nothing and spit for nothing
observe[r]
Jasmine O M Taylor Poetry Posts
cargo pants and sushi at the mall
a young woman knocks at my door
Dune is my jam. Denis gets it.
eyes wide open
Yesterday you Zoomed Friday drinks to at-home colleagues and it seemed perfectly reasonable.
a squat pigeon who haunts you
a daisy had glued itself to one
tiny dead face
tiny dead face
cultivated mushrooms seeking a little
more depth
at the troughs of soundwaves
it rains outside and it’s going to rain frequencies any minute