Miriam Karraker
synthesis/i never said i had to make up my mind ∞

i told u i was silver as in i want to be at the in between, blended quiet statics or quickening u r unsure if i am liquid or solid or vapor woman man person smoking an e-cigarette at the bedford L platform i tell u i am silver and scrolling neither here nor there u ask why i am googling places to get acrylic nails done on fucking bedford which would be the wrong place for it anyway and u ask won’t it be hard for me to hold her later but i told u i was not a shortnailed queer rather i’m both/and and practical because one hand will be acrylics while the other a gel manicure u wonder how i’ll play the synth with such long hot pink all over both hands after she’s left me for not being a good lover or because of her fear of me and men together i will make the sound a glitch and a stream conscious my wondering i mean wandering eye on that man on tinder who said he liked how i told him what to do and not just because it got him off but he likes how i talk hard and feel soft and turn on the square and sawtooth waves together some witchcraft i can make it shimmer and scream it does not confuse him and he doesn’t think my desire fool’s gold, fleet or glitch i feel like i’m holding him rhizomatically here and i wont apologize for my shimmer and i wont need to because he wants to talk about how he has to go to the dmv then somewhere else less bureaucratic and maybe even soft i was watching this grey cat in the yard instead of listening to him i’m so busy feeling sketchy, abbozzato, sorry, non finito but he said he’d get home and work for eight hours, a real new york day like how i’ve been having real new york days going to dumbo then midtown then chelsea goddamn i hate midtown so much but there’s this cash only korean place in a basement with an unmarked entrance and i get both noodle salad and tempura because i never said i’d had to make up my mind who really can decide in times like these you said once that fast fashion is what made us this way and i felt it really hard as i was standing in a towel in my apartment for a half an hour staring into my closet which is full of black blue white grey grey grey because i feel too visible in daylight when i wear a nonneutral like how i was just leaving his apartment at eight a.m. wearing the long green dress with the slit and how i took the b44 back to williamsburg but it stopped on fucking flushing so i walked through most of the neighborhood feeling loud and disrupting the peace of children and mothers in those stockings and fathers and neutral brownstones in this green dress that invites the eye to my waist and legs and the fluttering hem around my ankles so loud from the blisters from walking the rest of last night’s tequila off in the haze, i wish it’d rain and wash me out in the static but you’d still know i was there, just a latent sine wave i told you i was slippery, non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finito non finite





















Tonic (Tourmaline)



Some thing
glistens in the crag,
on the impress
its parallel, elongated 
acicular prisms
radiate pixel-like
and magnetized
to either granite or
the metamorphic schist 
yielding its exuding
elements bi-colored,
pink and green,
not at all like fruits
you are thinking of,
unless it is fruit covered in 
quartz gauze,
no, there is more variance
in its colors, its form 
trapping and refracting light, 
always with three-sided slices 
bundled in such a way that 
you have to be transfixed
by the shiny mass,
the visual delicacy
making your mind’s eye 
wonder why you grab
at what is shiny,
and for once, this time
what is not metallic or sweet 
but is definitely
sparkling.