Rachel Mann
👤 SpeakerAppearances Over Time
Podcast Appearances
Like the rabbis say, make me masake.
Loom me into lore, woven from readings and discards.
I do not care for making sense.
I could be all schmatology.
Construct me dress, show off fucking haute couture.
As if I was scripture, Tanakh, worthy of that much care.
Construct me weird and kind.
Leave it to me to strip off when I'm ready.
I shall run wild, naked as I dare, out into sober streets.
This book comprises a lot of re-imaginings of Eleanor in different times and places.
This, I guess, weaves a little bit of my own story into her.
Eleanor dreams.
Boy again.
Gangles, spider legs, all elbow and joint.
I'm shrunk.
I cycle capillary, body map, my own, my own BMXer tricking the pipes, all red, a festival of oxygen and iron, my teeth blackened edgeland.
Through long veins, miles of vein, I go.
No end.
Will there ever be end?
There are centuries of cells, archives of self no one will ever see.