Poems by Laure-Anne Bosselaar
The Worlds in this World
... while gnawed by self-doubt, Rilke couldnt write a line for weeks inViennas Victorgasse, ...
Filthy Savior
... on the hood, open the shirt, and there it goes, letting the wind ...
Community Garden
... of broken bottles, and plants them, firmly, over each head of sorrel tilting the necks ...
Garage Sale
... can slap on love-stained sheets thats what I sold my mothers ...
English Flavors
... thicken my saliva, sweet as those sticks black and slick with every lick it took to make daggers ...
Dinner at the Whos Who
... smile that way too: those resilient little smiles one smiles ...
