![]() | ![]() Nada Gordon and all the flowers that grow... first ode to spring, or the greenness of money feeling the thud of feet on earth I lie fugue state, simultaneous compositions, all my skins feeling spring like a lotion, juice, arms becoming branches daisies becoming hair coiled like tendrils and birds flappier ends of trees are hands stretching up to sky life's effort tiny gruntings not knowing you well I sex your possibility Next |