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my american sentences

Doilies pasted to a window don’t tell you anything about snow.

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my american sentences

Add “huzzah” to any sentence to get to 17 syllables.

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my american sentences

Another weekend: I play a cantata and wait for you to call.

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my american sentences

Even what we slough off we still live with, until we vacuum it up.

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my american sentences

At beauty school, one training head looks like Jesus, another like Cher.

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my american sentences

Four hours after the training session, I’m still wearing my nametag.

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my american sentences

Now I only think of Kansas City when I hear “Kansas City.”

(Share your American Sentence at Read Write Poem.)

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We've got to end this war before it lasts forever! — Henry Darger, from Realms of the Unreal

welcome to my gorgeous somewhere

This site is a workspace and showcase for Dana Guthrie Martin's writing. Her posts here are sometimes poetry, sometimes prose, sometimes prose poetry, sometimes lyrical prose. They are sometimes lists, which are neither prose nor poetry, unless they are one or the other or both. Click here to read more.

my collections of poetry, prose and b.s.

the spare room
the spare room, by dana guthrie martin
untelling stories
untelling stories by nathan moore and dana guthrie martin

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