Donna Kuhn

handmade paper

i'm dreaming i'm in pakistan

handmade papers; i felt like a puppet

my room was open

i'm jello i'm stoked

sure, easy street, alethea

it means dirty horses

i'll slash a fish

pakistan carved yr aching crayons

for 100 minutes the ice t.v..

to squeeze thru a meditative boat

this dancer without yr blood

bird sanded her, u come here

faces and eyes; her eyes about trash

u or i felt that pressure

i said i wanna go home

but i don't want u or a robot

and birds were loud in the moon

interesting periodic oatmeal and alone american

the moon term; bird radiation squeezes snow

birds are looking for city skin pipes

fish door, wolves without crayons

las vegas shadows birds named blind

crayons u down of bird planets

these digressions cloud her deep baby skin