#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
The idea that they were reenacting something which had been staged in the first place bothered her. If she wanted to go on, she’d need to ignore this limp chronology. She assumed he was...
With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—
So these are the hills of home. H… nearly subliminal. To see them is… double, hear bad puns delivered wi… An untoward familiarity. Rising from my sleep, the road is…
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,