sammi ama Poems

the problem may be:
I live in the sincerity
of every smiled promise
...

it's like the itch
you refuse to scratch

because it'll only
...

by giving me
such backwards advice
it's easy to see
...

clouds reaching so low
they cover the floor
allow the tops
to peer over
...

though it's a different season
since then, i can recall
with precision
my drive over the width of Texas
...

dreamt in déjà vu
self-proclaimed prophecies play

i live on and on
...

a cement block
selling food
across an angel's
flight path
...

you reject routine
as though it were meant
to be feared
...

less than the moon
pulling tides and
hiding to be sought by stars
...