I am the dull one, struck
mute by accomplishment
what I do, nothing.
Among extraordinary women
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I am the dull one, struck
mute by accomplishment
what I do, nothing.
a dilemma of
riches in tiny topaz
the art of language
“Read my poem? Please?”
In real life I’d get blank stares.
Here, you’re back for more.
Just over five months
This one four hundred fifty
Art or wasted time?
A haiku a day?
Not quite. Some days the tap runs,
some days it’s bone dry.
Today J begins
flying not yet a driver
the sky’s the limit
So hungry but the
dress fits stumble past photogs
smile stop nod pose smile.
Dreams of Oscars like
sugarplums dance in their heads.
Hollywood’s Christmas.
greatness revealed in
the sound of splinters, words that
pierce my jealous eyes.
See democracy
happen. It happens if you
exercise your right.