/imagine woman made of colored particles in mirrored landspace

one of my students inspired me to look into an image generation software, Midjourney. their website blurb states: “Midjourney is an independent research lab exploring new mediums of thought and expanding the imaginative powers of the human species.” now, i’ll buy the expanding imaginative powers bit. it’s exciting to see the words–a command, really–typed to… Continue reading /imagine woman made of colored particles in mirrored landspace

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black

After the beginning of people but long before painting, all of the colors asked the Creator to be named. Some were given shared names with plants: Violet, Rose, Olive, Saffron. Some were given shared names with animals: Coral, Vermilion, Salmon, Teal. Still others, like Gold and Silver, shared names with metals. After Red was named,… Continue reading black

one by one

i went to the museum with a friend the other day and noticed streaks of gray hair, new to me since i last saw her. we ambled through the exhibit at the pace of her daughter, who plodded around in baby steps and occasionally asked “ou-side?” my friend also had new gestures, holding out an… Continue reading one by one

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free

the most effective birth control pills are the ones with a side effect that cuts sex drive down at the knees, a nice clean cut. entire afternoons spent embroidering napkins, not the sanitary kind but the table linen. none of the flowers are perfect, some creases always remain in the material despite ironing at the… Continue reading free

cupid

how can one body pack so many pounds of ugly feeling, then aim it directly towards itself. it’s not right. it’s not the way to success and future glamourshine. hold on i have to go make some tea.(brew)she’s nuts!and cream, and sugar, and butterfat. down her throat into the belly, bypassing nutrition due to craving… Continue reading cupid

two pens, new notebook

with every sweet drop thatmy mouth enjoys thereare 99 devils thattake a molecule for them-selves and yet thiswill not satisfy theirticklish bellies sothey askfor more.

excuses

last week i thought it was the Russians. i blamed their aching orchestrations, familiar and distant. Tchaikovsky, Stravinsky, Rachmaninoff. finally, the broadcasts finished. this week i blame Marguerite Duras. how can one read a novel titled The Malady of Death and not fall through the cracks, fall to a high and lonely place? the stillness.… Continue reading excuses

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