#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
A career in vestige management. A dream job back—engineering shifts in salience. I’m so far
The jacaranda, for instance, is be… but not serious. That much I can guess. And that the view
There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way
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?”
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
Card in pew pocket announces, “I am here.” I made only one statement because of a bad winter.
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
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...
You’re it. It is (you are) an error with an arsenal of disguises,
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
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…
Shooting pleasures Ok’d by My being seen For Or as
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