An American Sentence XVIII
The poet sees her seat mate, a tortie cat, floss her past lives away.
11 thoughts on "An American Sentence XVIII"
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The poet sees her seat mate, a tortie cat, floss her past lives away.
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Compact & wonderfully fun. Thanks for sharing!
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Oh . . . cats are always creatures of mystery . . .
That they are!
Love these poems! Ginsberg would be smiling!
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The American Sentences again! Love!! This one is so evocative. And you’ve inspired me to write one today!
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Excellent, good words choices make for good humor!
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Thanks, y’all. Enjoying these train sentences.
Grateful to Ginsberg for this form.
Post yours, Ellen, would love to see it.