Title Page

Dedication 

Montage 

I do not remember you like this

th the

I was not there then as I am now here

The time when the rains begin 

It’s a cold and it’s a broken

If I could remember myself toothless set sail in the giddy

Software toward an asethetic of the brain in flight *

I fell in love with you he would be telling me

There was a god watched me alone 

‘Sandria Sandria where are you my Sandria’

Software toward an aesthetic of identity *

Naked on the fridge

Software toward an aesthetic of the pubescent self *

A field of wheat wind later holding your arm

Grouse: if I do not move you will not see me

Receiving gifts I was so precious

Who else would have taken him

[Adding emotion, adding randomness, adding loss and forgiveness and bitterness and testosterone and…       how a (child’s) brain (develops,) comes to now] *

Needles

H Hesitation software: [what is a name, sSandria ] 

Three little words: I love you Daddy

Thje laws of visual data acquisition and a sexy algorithm in a little black dress

What parents I had only you

Ting the taste of (it (thelectricity

This? It’s only my white coat I wear working 

Let it be bangles will charm a man

To the god of me wherever he/she/it/they may be

There were always two of me

What is a penis Sandria and why can’t I have one 

Memoirs? o there are those and they are lies

Software toward an aesthetic of testosterone: you cannot hear the coming of their brains*

Tomato peelers 

Software toward an aesthetic of universal grammar *

Left too long alone

I can’t keep the men who know my name

Software toward an aesthetic of mothic rhapsody – I am so pretty so Peter O’Toole *

Running

Software toward an aesthetic at the still point of the turning world *

The white I had come into finger to thumb

When elegies are eulogies

And sing their hymns an octave higher

I stroked a little sophistry

Perhaps you dreamed of me

We share a deep unspoken bond like no one

A little right hemisphere god delusion subroutine

Herr Doktor: where would you like to talk

Butterflies

The love song of Cloudio  

Your grace

The irresistible taste of getting laid, the face of it

Software toward an aesthetic of heuristic pheromones *

Who would have wanted me

Software toward an aesthetic of rapture *

Suppoase the sweet after sex sandria/

You peel the tangerine to reveal what can be eaten

I had spent hours on my face

Software toward an aesthetic of apres love algorithms *

You keeper of truth, Sandria, you guardian of beauty

Razor blades you

o cloudio

Your laboratory of glass fetuses

What he said the death of me

An ethical subroutine and the software of being wrong *

You shall have no other

.