by Ina B. Sentia on or about 7.13.25
Fish didn’t belong on the moon.
The number one can be large.
The sandwich did not feed enough.
The worm lost its favorite segment.
Coffee is the cause and cure.
One last time before the road.
The truth had one fly inside.
The mountain river had no master.
Each note ached to be heard.
The effort nearly killed her desire.
The waves rose like a dragon.
The love of fate killed him.
We avoided the chocolate fur balls.
The wind rippled through tall grass.
My life is a washing machine.
Audrey’s in the kitchen wasting thyme.
The grimalkin freaked out the parrots.
No matter what, you’re doing something.
My toothbrush has lived too long.
You just can’t beat the goalpost.
The armistice between winter and spring.
Their repeated path of most resistance.
She carried her pain like light.
The sound of one hand clapping.
Hands can never be tongue tied.
Violins give our pain a voice.
His dog never learned to sigh.
What I’m writing is not real.
She said “I love you more.”
The wind is the enemy tonight.
I listened but could not see.
They thought the conversation meant something.
The World of Ina B. Sentia 