#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
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 career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
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...
Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.