Carrie Hunter

From Vibratory Milieu

The heart has but one mouth.
The red lettering has been painted over with yellow.
As we get older, we see history more clearly.
It is normal to be confused.
Number zero zero three.
I don’t want to get my feet wet.
Then the light turned purple & twilightish and a huge fog came
& I thought ooooh its so low it will go right through me,
but it turned out to be more solid than that.
There are no details.
“My sneaking suspicion is there is nothing awaiting us.”
There are places for girls in your predicament.
Aversive to the landscape.
Pansies, that’s what it smelled like.
When I say left, I mean right.
“Obstacles are not problems. They are supposed to be there. They fit into the tapestry.”
People like us don’t change.
Dreamt Emily Dickinson was dictating from beyond the grave, she asked if I would add a dash into her poem, that she forgot one, and that it needed to be in italics.
All stick and no carrot.
One of those cities people tell you to like.
Dreamt I was an audience member.
Celibate cruising.
Like having a presentiment.
During intermission I wanted to get more golf balls.
Things become less solid, matter starts to fluctuate.
There was a point where I thought I might be longer but I changed my mind.
I have a small room but the rest of the house is not mine and I have very little
awareness of it.
The most ordinary morning in anyone’s life.
I’m not a parade person.
I understand a helicopter.
The poet will die.
Nothing’s really happened until its been described.
Because we have to be secret, he has sex with a pirate.
The free packets of coffee stopped showing up.
Images can be easily manipulated depending on the music.
The cats jumped in my lap, telling me their magical name,
I’d pet them for a while and then they’d jump back out the window.
Dream about eating rose petals.
Masterpieces are hypotheses.
You are never alone on a plane.
Everything is allowed. Nothing is possible.
I felt sort of destroyed.
Cement that bends.
11% of girls are deflowered in a car.
So many psychic moments today, all having to do with tabulation.
Doing nothing becomes an art here.
The economy is scary.
The chairs with their backs to one another.
Above the window is written like graffiti, Dragons Love You –
Trying to remember childhood feelings in my body.
Fear must be banished. Fear of thinking, fear of being happy.
The reversal of the reversal.
We stop at the motel.
The sunlight is a mirror.
My nostalgia is starting to bore me.
People stop walking and just stand.
I’m reading about the differences between the juices the way you read about wine.
She has written requesting to withdraw her resignation.
It’s the refusal of subterfuge. It gives way to lucidity.
The power of not saying things but influencing them anyway.
We’re in spiral mode.
The blue ticket counter.
Privacy is not a certainty.
It’s a feedback loop & nobody knows where the loop stops.
The aesthetics of the bus.
Dreamt we were impersonating either oranges or orange juice or something orange.
If a return is a new type of progression.
Can’t I just be afraid without a definite object?
This is in a hospital.
Facebook wasn’t built in a day.
I collect situations.
There is someone pounding on a door so hard I wake up
and no one is pounding on a door.
Abandoning surfaces or abandoned to surfaces.
The water here is nicely scented.
We can ask DNA to change the circuitry for us.
“Such a difference between what you dream about and whats really there.”
Had she lived, I could have solved the mystery of this resonance.
“There are no bad feelings or good feelings, just information.”
In a panic because I see no menu anywhere.
I can make her appear or disappear at will.
The influence the original sound exerts on the clone body.
We came here before we were born.
I’m wearing Nightfall.
Your subjects may be more adaptable than you realize.
No seven second delay here.
A man comes in and turns off the power, but the music continues.
Then later, with some people, I realized I don’t even have to go up the stairs, if you just stay there, the whole floor moves.
Still life with stuck things.
Like outside of the space where God resides is a space where God does not.
Say goodbye to the sleigh.
lemon colored sunlight
Happiness is forgetfulness.
He wanted me to read this poem, this amazing poem, and I did and it was written on this old man’s clothes, so I was reading his shirt and then I wanted to read his pants so he took them off and even though he was really old there was this really nice smell to his pants, like cologne.


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