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Behind her was confusion
a beautiful, healthy young woman
Infantile knee-high white-painted gates
no sadness of farewell
So buck up, little trooper!
if you were not my son.
To protect your privacy, hand over your data
HE stood against the kitchen sink, and looked
I don't question God.
the suburbs were dreary: places to joke about
another baby
But I'd suggest you count your blessings instead.
The sun shone unfalteringly
To lighted city streets we, too
pink and white foam
detailed logs of your actions
generate a legitimate income
lifelogging,