from a series called Dr. Elizabeth Pine-Rumelhart
Betty clawed up laws slumped
exposed each participant to features
(See Appendices B & C)
MASS CARD FROM DR. PINE’S MOTHER
bless her fainting ascenders her
unhinged descenders bless her
floating digits and if need be
deliver her, lord, eyes to my
doorstep and when her sockets
germinate and fresh sponge
fills scoop them shawl swaddled
wet and snagged I’ll sacrifice
the heap fire or feeding
for her peace
Participant C9 clipped reported it
Dr. Pine suffered
a visionary incision an
asynchronous riot in her sleep
an unwarranted episiotomy
how can we
ever account for these things
no, she wasn’t pregnant
most likely caused her aversion
her liturgical affinities
her architectural allergy to eaves
we must take detailed
DR. PINE CALLS THE LAB ASSISTANT IN FOR A MEETING
all the cells vibrating
a missing electron
that’s what makes us have the words
frantic chaos frenetic anxious
the idea of lostness
we are comforted (she flirts)
by our claustrophobic
can i offer you some cabbage?
no harm, we will learn
here it is.
okay, can i have it?
oh, that’s what you meant.
stop being so slavic.
a phantom limb, phantom feature. havoc.
(See Appendix A)
DISCUSSION: CONSPIRACY THEORY
new hypothesis for further research:
the feature is a braid depends upon depth perception another dimension
can’t be detected around this axis
they keep you in this fog so you’ll do it again
find a new way to associate with an h, an a, a t see
parentheses and think yes, maybe it is all different than what i thought, think, i was missing this theory, this theory of parentheses, i couldn’t have done anything right
they keep you in this fog
convince you that syntax has something to do with it, has everything, is your sun goddess, is your frenetic stillness, you think you can be a vibrating table, all buzz but still serve as surface
it’s our job at the center to keep inventing evolutions of cognition
so we can keep believing it
right now to develop x-ray love
so we can observe it
See more from Dr. Pine-Rumelhart in the Pink Line Project and in Apartment Poetry Qtrly. Meg Ronan works as a shopgirl at Bridge Street Books in DC.
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