A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far

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

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

“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.

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

With whom do you leave yourself during reveries? The one making coffee or doing the driving—

You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,

Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”

What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…

If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response