#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
It’s as if we’ve just been turned… in order to learn that the beetle we’ve caught and are now devouring is our elder brother
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged