Emulation
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When Morning Comes
like the old quail in spring;
When morning comes and shakes all the dew drops from his
cloak
to greet me, and undoes his heavy coat buttons;
To sneeze, or not to sneeze-that is the question:
Whether it’s better for my nasal cavity to suffer
The annoyance of inconsiderate reflexes,
It’s What She’s Not
I
A yellow rose twisted on a wire hanger
in the closet,
and even that imaginary,
I write America, holding back the pain from her, the hurt from him, and the anger from themI’m a silently outspoken girl trying to prove that writing will get me farI can and will
