Wanda Phipps Poems

language is essentially
the same
under differences
...

I forgot the time
with old poems
old boxes
...

floating gray web pages
step into a crowded vacuum
clouds sweating
...

groggy voice
hangover head
phone rongs
work call
...

if she took off her top
would that embarrass you
would you smile and laugh newvously
...

pink around a
circle of pink
around a shimmer
...

I close my eyes
and there it is
a concrete walkway
...

cold bed
gray day
memories
...

forever in bed
waiting for heat
...

in neon
"aceptamos visa"
above "botanica
...