This is poem 660.
Which feels like a lot.
And a little.
I'd like to take this moment to thank everyone for reading. Please tell your friends about my poems. I like to get eyes on the words as much as possible.
Eyes on words y'all.
Mona Lisa stretches across her poplar home – her DNA having been sequenced just the morning before
She crosses to a window – naked – she wants to go snowboarding