Aught No. 11/12 (2003) - Kuhn, Three Poems

Aught, no. 11/12 (2003)

Donna Kuhn

damage the bird

its my nervous 9/11 burns female with protein
a forest and its for the nervous everything
he said he liked it was red tahini balls
a fit reply and kitchen me lonesome female
shut up shes olive she's olive shut like oil
red couch up swooning in colorado
i seemed to go burn females
i guess we were a female shut
saying chaos yes woozy bordellos
but uh-oh bimbo-like lovers and she the day the day
swooning swooning french toast
burns female colorado swooning
i dont like swooning a forest and its everything
it was tahini balls i am a fit
swooning in a fit downhill
she threw bimbo-like and she the swooning tomatoes
its my nervous 9/11 with protein
swooning tomatoes for the nervous
he said he liked red ironing a black dress
shut up she's olive up in colorado
i seemed to go dance a burning i guess a female shut
yes woozy bordellos like female
but uh-oh olive lovers day the day
a fit reply and tahini balls i am it was everything
a forest and i dont like swooning

hairspray in my eyes

human growth vegetables open my eyes when she's winter
went back to my tofu laundry ugh in the newly warmed sauce
i suppose the urge to go, no man in yr box?
and he could put a tornado thingie, our milkshake laundry
and i slept like baby furniture hairspray in my eye
balance the cat sanctuary; why is my shit list green too?
this country may suck foreshadowing but we are in it its there
baby and sometimes it aint mimicking my rain
in a white skirt tonite i came in paragraph form
his bible stories i cant see till next she giggles
hed wanna roll around really? do some give me
freeway air yes, freeway air go crazy
debating merle haggard it was mama bear
wow, u have wildlife; she realized she was a solemn rabbit usually
shut up oh yeah, what is that thing the mitochondria
went back to my tofu winter

weird miso

how are u? a sponge mirrored the world
hmmm, a sponge, u sorry poor mountain
what do u mean my brain my brain is in russia?
cant fake yr a gift to me laughing in a way
drank coffee ring of white moon hanger
her eyes away u yr poor voodoo doll
im green im six i'm six empty tripods
her eyes hot poem
how are u? i had interrupted a sponge
the mountain was deep, friendly
ring of her eyes she was massive margaret
the angry ring of white
i like that moon on a hanger
she was nervous bread
actress in a bird
i feel like shit blowing up birds
it's snowing dog wings
u like monsters plus the queens are nice
our hawks are tired no planets
see in my mind little sandwich ladies
i was nervous but every moon blows up
she was weird miso
moon up an actress
i like that moon one actress said
it seems often like trees
when u grow up do u want to live?
she was a temple bombed
are u deep, friendly, good for what ails me.