Current / Past / About / |
m. forajter
|
YOU ARE BURIED QUIETLY IN THE BACKYARD. The image degrades, decays like the sentence must under an eye. you say: static and/or pins. Lol maybe laser beams. I need glasses to go beyond the alphabet. You say vision: it reverberates into a painting. I think, Bhanu's cyborg. Or something with purpose: a rose-eater. A girl who dies the night before a riot. EYE :: IMAGE THE IMAGE IS A DRONE (AN ANNUNCIATION.) YOU CAN'T WATCH WITHOUT GUILT. a video store is (was) beginning. to rewind think: looped. Uh, can u write it down? can my eye activate? my eyes gift-wrapped to make x ray rib fracture mouth: virtue. do you see, do act, do will, am. my prescription is out of date my convex mirror is owned... even in convulsions i can stutter the eye should be a needle do i mean vision/needle? the implication is obvious. to describe or to straddle the venting oracle. (do you mean prophecy? do you mean periscope?) i mean the length of the path i mean a visor. you have to see. to have vision. i mean i have none of this. i sit down at the computer and see my face reflected in the screen. treason. treasonous. where are my x-ray specs? Conjure a fit. Ecstatic vision. I will finish soon, a complete thing — glasses : glass — barely past my belly (maybe myopic or a security tape) you say: vision. Read my clothes (flesh) (dys) (give over) I think you should stop writing. I think its time to make a choice. Your worldly burden, in all its perfect symmetry... I think the point in doing anything should be in breaking open a rock, like an egg. I am sad about our desolate planet. |
m. forajter is a MFA graduate from Columbia College Chicago. Her work has been published in several magazines, including Tarpaulin Sky, Court Green, Queen Mob's Tea House, Luna Luna, and Witch Craft Magazine. Her chapbooks, WHITE DEER and Marmalade Girl, are available from dancing girl press. She really likes Nirvana, werewolves, and medieval art. |