She lives her life in lower case
with no punctuation.
Her moods are subjunctive
and she is just plain tired period, new paragraph.
She shuns participles
and finds objects of prepositions intimidating
if not objectionable.
She looks upon her existence
as a run-on sentence
and each day as an infinitive.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
But better than an imperative! Nicely put. Fx