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I am slowly digesting the first section of TwERK. 

In “pistology,” Nevada Diggs conflates technological terminology with religious diction, “contrasting between real time and / Buffy la matar vampiro” (6). My roommate and I, too, worship the “mighty transmitter of heaven,” our beloved television—a gift from her aunt. In fact, I am currently reading my roommate’s copy of Joss Whedon: The Complete Companion, which contains scholarly criticism about Buffy (and my roommate’s sticky-note scribbles, because she views in-book annotations as a cardinal sin. I am an avid annotator, though I never dog-ear the pages). I hope this compendium will provide ample inspiration for my research on fictional vampires. Joss Whedon is, of course, a colossal asshole. 

“pistology” perhaps applies to cell phones, too. I am deeply preoccupied with the various pitfalls of social media, and I strive to decrease my screen time each week (somehow, it still averages approximately five hours per day. Five hours! I could accomplish so many things in five hours). The cell phone is a modern marvel, an immense privilege, and an inevitable feature of a digitized world. It is often an integral component of day-to-day communication and even collective action. This past Monday, my screen time skyrocketed. 

“have you forgotten any personal property?” reads as a sonic experience, not a clear narrative—though it provides many opportunities for associations between disparate words and phrases. Perhaps the poem itself is a “dummy check,” and we, its readers, are dummies (16). I showed the poem to my childhood friend in the hopes of gaining some insight, and she called it “bad poetry.” According to Nevada Diggs, the poem “is a response to Gary Simmons’ Erasure series” (90). Both Simmons and Nevada Diggs have displayed their work in the Whitney Museum of American Art. “Anyone can publish anything these days,” my friend said, or something along those lines. I think she resented being called a “dummy” (we were raised to be “gifted children;” it’s a sensitive topic for us). I swallowed my dissent. Later, I read the poem aloud to myself.  

I am slowly digesting the events of the past week. I lack the language—or perhaps the drive or courage—to write what I feel, to write what must be said. I am trying to read and read and read but some things cannot be swallowed.

faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith check faith¹

1. After Latasha N. Nevada Diggs’ “have you forgotten any personal property?” ↩︎