#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
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,
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
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
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
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
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.