#panic chorus

[nuzzlewiththeirsoftparts]

Darker now in a new kind of body, I go in fear of metals, of what I would open a mouth to say, colored pumpkin-like or worse, I am in a room, what happens next: mostly melody, mostly reaching back toward regret. Bleating a white morning into sheets, do the ferns panic when I do, do necessary facts of anything go on, here how doubly light floats in a bedroom. I would un-name best practice slicing the fruit, how like access, how unsent the letters when inked already. New ways stuffed silhouette-like. New song like almost heard.

Wendy Xu, from Panic Chorus

http://thefiddleback.com/issue-items/from-panic-chorus

[nuzzlewiththeirsoftparts]

I learn the word missive only after impersonating a stranger. If I move around inside a voice. If I put both hands cleanly through an arm-hole. Who is anyone if not usually incorrect? Which is to say I reject the idea of unmovable lines.

Wendy Xu, from Panic Chorus 

http://www.thevolta.org/twstbs-poem57-wxu.html