animal human machine i abandoned human moved outside my body brushed my eyelashes better to see you see me and we got along fine both of us having that amnesia that lets us bring things into the body take them out and move them around the house i watched movement witnessed transaction at 3:03 a shadow cut the building in half at 3:10 the sun went in the building stood whole again or so I thought when I see a thing i make it real a woman naturally eclipsing a street lamp a woman naturally smoking in the hallway a woman naturally standing at a table counting money a woman naturally wrestling bacteria with her own hands a woman naturally in a room petting all the stuffed animals a woman naturally organizing bags of flour on a shelf a woman naturally removing splinters from her thigh with a tweezer a woman naturally tyrannizing a room of windows a woman naturally at the bottom of a river a woman naturally in a sunroom confessing to all the plants a small white room on the ground floor pillows stacked like cats here and there color a dog barking the bed and a dust ruffle the dresser and its weight the clapboard dusty the bed a pair of wire framed glasses a dumb light bed built for one as if we’re expected to die in our sleep wearing shoes in the bed masturbating the room is a giant aperture the mattress is very expensive a large dog and the small of my neck a water soluble paradox the rooms are connected the damage is muzzled dreams are not accidental a pencil cactus slanting rectangles of paper they come built into the rooms I walk across the room toward the door I knock into a piece of furniture I don’t want to be sentimental but I walk across the room and objects move out of my way the dog had me by the neck the man was shirtless the kitchen floor was cracked the man was blond and bearded the dog was toothed the door opened from the inside the motion was not a magician but a man not (a) disappearance but (b) invisibility the writing on the wall was in Greek the nails on the wall held nothing visible a crash of motorcycles projected miniature the kitchen floor was cracked the man had me by the neck the miniature was not so miniature up close the magician was shirtless the dog cracked the crash opened from the inside the motion was not a magician but a floor the writing on the wall was bearded Alex Cuff teaches public high school, studies herbal medicine and edits No, Dear magazine. She lives in Brooklyn. Alex is sporting a 4 Mixed Texture Vintage Chainz mactaggart piece.

animal human machine


i abandoned human

moved outside my body brushed

my eyelashes better to see

you see me

and we got along fine

both of us having that amnesia

that lets us bring things into the body

take them out

and move them around the house


i watched movement witnessed transaction

at 3:03 a shadow cut the building in half

at 3:10 the sun went in

the building stood whole again

or so I thought

when I see a thing

i make it real


a woman naturally eclipsing a street lamp

a woman naturally smoking in the hallway

a woman naturally standing at a table counting money

a woman naturally wrestling bacteria with her own hands

a woman naturally in a room petting all the stuffed animals

a woman naturally organizing bags of flour on a shelf

a woman naturally removing splinters from her thigh with a tweezer

a woman naturally tyrannizing a room of windows

a woman naturally at the bottom of a river

a woman naturally in a sunroom confessing to all the plants


a small white room

on the ground floor

pillows stacked like cats

here and there color

a dog barking

the bed and a dust ruffle

the dresser and its weight

the clapboard dusty

the bed a pair of wire framed glasses

a dumb light bed

built for one

as if we’re expected to die

in our sleep wearing shoes

in the bed masturbating

the room is a giant aperture

the mattress is very expensive



a large dog and the small of my neck

a water soluble paradox

the rooms are connected

the damage is muzzled

dreams are not accidental

a pencil cactus

slanting rectangles of paper

they come built into the rooms

I walk across the room toward the door

I knock into a piece of furniture

I don’t want to be sentimental

but I walk across the room

and objects move out of my way


the dog had me by the neck

the man was shirtless

the kitchen floor was cracked

the man was blond and bearded

the dog was toothed

the door opened from the inside

the motion was not a magician but a man

not (a) disappearance but (b) invisibility

the writing on the wall was in Greek

the nails on the wall held nothing visible

a crash of motorcycles projected miniature

the kitchen floor was cracked

the man had me by the neck

the miniature was not so miniature up close

the magician was shirtless

the dog cracked

the crash opened from the inside

the motion was not a magician but a floor

the writing on the wall was bearded






Alex Cuff teaches public high school, studies herbal medicine and edits No, Dear magazine. She lives in Brooklyn.
Alex is sporting a 4 Mixed Texture Vintage Chainz mactaggart piece.