valerie witte
DESCRIPTION
from A Game of Correspondence by Valerie WitteTRANSCRIPT
FROM A GAME OF CORRESPONDENCE
an apparent projection of formerly warm, turned cool, then chilly, then oceans where momentarily inhabitants of the same waters wade.
a squid and whale, a swimmer suspended, in the graceful formation of a swimmer. droplets replaced by salt or the molecular content of water.
(is that you, Aquaman.) most dense at the freezing point, a physical
environment for drowning leading travelers to water by asphyxiation, burial
a novel collaboration cohabitation with scientists, priests, wizards white. a way of solving then dissolving realities. she never knew if he liked children though more than half
of all stars are twins.
a plane without resistance, not
to worry over what you’ve been keeping by the garage in a capsule in ice, an experimental
bunker into which various articles are preserved until curing (and there you were, crying), twinkling occasionally flashes of light. jenny burnt tails, let them run
let them run let them glow in your country.
let spin her records collected and shelved, to a daughter you tried to make contact make kind as simply reproducing
sound by means of vibration. she tried sleeping but the whole house shook. as cork, cardboard absorbing horns, layers of strings laid in an ambient pattern.
padded with green, a harpist’s track to deliver and receive replies from the other side.
when individual strands cross, the disposal of vinyl a quandary. highly resistant to male and female whistles. her shivers betray a blow such as blinding
by thumbs, displacement of fingers, then succumbing to a child’s manifestation out of found pieces a dream
of a giant man-bird recurred. his arms were useless though he could sometimes fly.
didn’t you say that about him once. shook her hand and returned as benevolent
red lights, DEMONS paranoid at manipulation of hands distorting the nature of accessories dropped between seats. she left her hat on the bus today.
remaining as a form of transit.
today he said to me: “I have a shirt much like that one.” an apparent expression of similitude, transference of an article from one body
to another. that we dress virtually as any living person would want
to resemble what you, the respondent, see. the degree of deduction
involved in determining location of an item at large. popular responses include terminal, coat rack, storefront,
mannequin, stoplight, steps. A native St. Louisan, Valerie Witte received her MFA in Writing from the University of San Francisco. Her work has appeared in various journals, such as Barrow Street, VOLT, Interim, and Letterbox; and her first chapbook,The History of Mining, was recently published by the ge collective. She is a member of Kelsey Street Press in Berkeley and the Bay Area Correspondence School. Her recent projects include explorations of a future Earth's prosthetic nature and the evolution of human skin.