While Making Coffee
If form is my function and my nature is to stab
how did I fall in this river? Now swallowed
up by the prospect of making you erupt.
Knee-buckling, too scared to try. Sit at a typewriter.
/ Cut to a wastebasket / Cut to pipe dream / Cut to low-level job /
Cut to menial task / Cut to plate glass window /
If I were a hot girl in a tube top
I could have gone outside to
wash my car in slow-motion.
Stupid neuroticism builds too personal. Sit at a typewriter.
/ Cut to intimacy / Cut to performance / Cut to a metal / Cut to a chest to pin it on /
Cut to both hands / Cut to deflecting / Cut to hospital corridor /
A red dirt floor grotesque with
characterization. Me, scuttling like
a cockroach, eventually just laid flat.
Attachment unavoidable, feet all tangled up. Sit at a typewriter.
/ Cut to 40-watt light bulb / Cut to fog / Cut to dry land /
Cut to throat / Cut to recording / Cut to knife / Cut to knife.
Kellie Nadler is a M.A. student at Eastern Michigan University. She’s a member of the Temporal Arts Collective and a contributing editor for BathHouse Hypermedia Journal.