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

The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view

You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever

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

Sad, fat boy in pirate hat. Long, old, dented, copper—colored Ford. How many traits must a thing have

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

Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as

We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the

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

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

The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.