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.