Neon; Regret: Lucio Fontana’s “Walking the Space”
Amanda Goldblatt
I am writing you now from a city we scored with nomadic walking fourteen months ago. During that trip I had been ill.
I am writing you now from a city we scored with nomadic walking fourteen months ago. During that trip I had been ill.
One night of nothing
When the languorous motion of bats and owls overthrows the scorching August air
making a party only takes three
One night of nothing
heavy on an empty
Dan disowned my sister and me via email a year ago
for M
i.
In the beginning there was only the girl
and the ocean. Someone was telling a story;
in the story a girl’s friend died, an accident,
so she walked into the sea, breathed
In this dappled language, like a woods painted by Neil Welliver, in and out of our attention, animals wander in the camouflage. They are highlighted by our attention: each stands in a yellow bar of