awe-struck at our smoothbrained lexicon
speaking in diluted idioms 
(esperanto is giving failure)
which is beautiful in this Dark Age apocalyptic way, we’ll soon be
giving monk, we’ll be monkbossing into
the sun, and she is just
          like me
          for real
our very own Hands Across the World 
are people still playing songs backwards
listening for secret messages? 
i feel hot and gauzy
like i’ve been set out to rot
          but the sun forgot to move
like there’s some girl who looks just like me,
but optimized, yassified. i can’t be spiteful
there should be an upgraded version somewhere
before you cut me up
would you make my paperdoll do 
a little knock-kneed dance?

the camera is already recording

Claire Rychlewski is a writer living in Chicago. Her work has appeared in Broadkill, The Portland Review, blush lit, witch craft magazine, and Hot Pink Mag, among other publications. Her chapbook, BORN TO ROT, was published in 2022 by Bottlecap Press. She is currently serving as prose editor for SARKA.