By Amy Simone Piller
If people were made of pixels, they would not be triangular.If people were triangles, they would not be equilateral(for if they were, they could sit in a circle of eightand make an octagon).Most people can’t even see where a person’s three sides lie(that would do for me—being boxed into three,just not steam rolled).
Periodically triangles [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Oftentimes it mewson and onbegging to not off (making the background unaware of its status)fighting some miniscule twig(the thing you wish you didyesterday)messing with the foreground focusof what you wantto do right now.
“Turn me on, to turn it off,â€it chantsin digital pixels prancing the space between your faceand the screenmaking real time seemirrelevant(the once [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
The substance abuse prevention and intervention counselorwill be six weeks late. He is in the rubber room(unrelated to kids).
He was playing tennis,got mad,smashed his partner over the headwith a racket—it was proclaimeda brain hemorrhaging rage.
Do not be alarmed, he’ll be back soon
to discuss choices
with your first period class.
By Amy Simone Piller
To camouflage:1. a strong desire;2. a survival instinct, part of evolutionstraighten your hair, wear polka dots (when popular)go retroon occasion.
If you find you blend too much indo not give up,instead panic. Forever more,change your clothesat least five timesbefore leaving the house—leaving a messIs the first stepIn self-destructive behavior.
While out, have enough drinksto [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
The legitimacy of the stateIs created by the will (or consentin the case of ten percent turnoutlocal elections for politicians who may or may notbe puppets) of its people,like the color of the sea flooris created by light and water and eyes and reflectionsand refraction and particles and algae and sharks.
How strangethat anythingbe uniform.
* [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Cosmetic circles make the middle of a tree.A slice of my corewould reveal very strange shapes.
The amorphous heartRight next to the rib cageIs not its progeny(mini-mes do not existinside of me).
By Amy Simone Piller
That the Prospect Park ducks returnis a wonder. Once, in a botched attemptat a romantic pavilion sittinga spring bringing kissing sessionderailed by the smell of rottingdrops of alcohol is molding bottles—parties to which I would never be privy(sheltered by roves—the blessing of work hours)a duck ambled bymissing its beak.
How terribly disturbingits bared tongueits homeless homeits [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
Paradise is to the desertas an oasis is to a therapy patient/a bored child to uselessness.
The existence of an analogythe happenstance of a desiredoes not fulfill need.
A complimentary colordoes not make two things match.
The history of the individualthe psyche we built of a pastdoes not come in pairs.
Solutions are challenging.
If the existence [...]
By Amy Simone Piller
AnimaliaChordataReptiliaSquamataScleroglessiaVaranidaeVaranusV. konodonesislives with the privilege of no predatorson its island.
With saliva made of pathogensthe world is a feast.
By Amy Simone Piller
My body was yoursonce. I felt so littleyour handsdrove my fathers stick shift,could move me swift, one armedand trying to championthe art of frozen vegetablesyou too, youngwith mystery,attempting authoritylike jumping waves.
The ocean roarsof unknown,sand pipersscurrying its edgecrab crabbingthe border or safety.
What else is there of todaybut intention?
If only we had wingsfor skirmisheswith what [...]