I am the sore thumb and I ache, I ache.
What more is there in the angles of a square peg
if not the box shape, if not the box shape?
My home is the niche in the round hole —the box
scrapes me, reminding me that it is the owner
of my shape —with each thrust my form is renewed
until jaggedly I allow it to fit straight through.
Not known for much of anything, CAMIELE WHITE is always a student. Her main goals in life: Not to fuck up to badly and to have enough money for groceries and to pay the rent. She can do many things, but hasn’t mastered anything. Everything is in little bits: She can sing…a little bit. But other that that, she hopes her poetry gives people a thrill (or not) or at least grabs people’s attention enough to make it all worth while. The End.