#Americans #LanguagePoetry #Women
The doll told me to exist. It said, “Hypnotize yourself.” It said time would be transfixed.
Discomfort marks the boundary. One early symptom was the boundary… The invention of hunger. I could use energy. To serve.
What if I were turned on by seemi… or “extrapolate?” What if I maneuvered conversation… words? Perhaps the excitement would come…
“must represent the governess for, of course, the creature itsel… could not inspire such terror.” staring at me fixedly, no trace of recognition.
Ventriloquy is the mother tongue. Can you colonize rejection by phrasing your request, “Me want?”
Complex systems can arise from simple rules. It’s not that we want to survive, it’s that we’ve been drugged
We know the story. She turns back to find her trail devoured by birds. The years; the
A girl is running. Don’t tell me “She’s running for her bus.” All that aside!
The very flatness of portraits makes for nostalgia in the connoisseur. Here’s the latest
You may “have” sex— but those round sink—holes beneath the off—ramps, scabbed with whatever
spider on the cold expanse of glass, three stories high rests intently and so purely alone. I’m not like that!
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…
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
A merchant is probing for us with his chintz curtain effect. *