DEBTS AND FALSIES
http://www.maverickmagazine.com/articles/291/1/DEBTS-AND-FALSIES/Page1.html
Dianna L. Zimmerman
Dianna L. Zimmerman is a creative writing graduate student at the University of New Mexico, Albuquerque. She works as an on-line mentor/editor for other writers through the University of New Mexico community outreach program, The Writers' Inn, and is the happy mother of a twin girl and boy! By Dianna L. Zimmerman
Published on 07/16/2004
lying. She told me not to
and discover a new form
tango-like. Bitter. Or was it
ensconced? The trail
of black smoke taper
and thin candle- it's
ceiling-high. The ISBN
quietly feels her up-
and discover a new form
tango-like. Bitter. Or was it
ensconced? The trail
of black smoke taper
and thin candle- it's
ceiling-high. The ISBN
quietly feels her up-
lying. She told me not to
and discover a new form
tango-like. Bitter. Or was it
ensconced? The trail
of black smoke taper
and thin candle- it's
ceiling-high. The ISBN
quietly feels her up-
cover-praise from Village Voice
when she reads the book &
violates her new
form. Why paint
Elvis's nose crooked? Art, drugs.
The third man left his wife-
banked the future
and lied his way into jail.
Three squares and a cot. Any
thing to reduce his debt.
Cumulative. Newborn baby-skin
and when hair follicles begin
closing you get baby-fine
and then none, hair. Honey.
Don't call her that. Liar.
I told him not to and
did, could, tried, it all
went. She traces the steps
to hell and discovers
her backyard. No fountain.
Betty Orleans. Stage name
would have been in the show,
see it, but no one came.
Trickle-up economics
of love and perspiration.
We sweat the keeping.
Copyright © Dianna L. Zimmerman, 2004. All Rights Reserved.
and discover a new form
tango-like. Bitter. Or was it
ensconced? The trail
of black smoke taper
and thin candle- it's
ceiling-high. The ISBN
quietly feels her up-
cover-praise from Village Voice
when she reads the book &
violates her new
form. Why paint
Elvis's nose crooked? Art, drugs.
The third man left his wife-
banked the future
and lied his way into jail.
Three squares and a cot. Any
thing to reduce his debt.
Cumulative. Newborn baby-skin
and when hair follicles begin
closing you get baby-fine
and then none, hair. Honey.
Don't call her that. Liar.
I told him not to and
did, could, tried, it all
went. She traces the steps
to hell and discovers
her backyard. No fountain.
Betty Orleans. Stage name
would have been in the show,
see it, but no one came.
Trickle-up economics
of love and perspiration.
We sweat the keeping.
Copyright © Dianna L. Zimmerman, 2004. All Rights Reserved.