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

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

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

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

There were distinctive dips and shivers in the various foliage, syncopated, almost cadenced in the way

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

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.

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…

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

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

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