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.