#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
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. *
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
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…
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
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.
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
If sadness is akin to patience, we’re back! Pattern recognition was our first response