Always loved this poem for the matrix sound.

SINGER FUTURA

I is instinct gone awry.

Sugar, speed, near death, she loved

to limn oblivion, thrived

off the grid, since the grid

was fraught with dead ideas

of what a life should be.

In her inherited America,

mothers don't risk

their skins. They monogram and fold.

~Eliza Griswold

The mysteries of a comma #poetry #poem