Spirals in the / Sky spray out eight billion cassette tapes / So anyone on any other planet might wit / Just how thin earthly love has withered.
She offered the poison on the tip of a spoon.
A couple months ago my mother and I had to dig up my grandmother's grave. I looked away from her face. My mother didn’t: her eye is gone, her skin is gone, and her mouth is a big hole.
Three months out of the year I get to file for unemployment. I swim, I paint, and I try not to fuck things up. I have a real tendency to fuck my life up.
If I got what I wanted I would actually be doing what I’d wanted to do all along, step inside not history, but living art itself. And for this I would undoubtedly be considered a bad mother—many easily burning me at the stake.
I have developed an awareness / Of my need to perform this fervor / And what I thought was fear / Turned out to be excitement.
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
"I loved reading Exit, Carefully. It’s unusual, and in my opinion exciting, to publish a play without previously receiving a major production."
-Walker Caplan, Lithub
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Delivery 4-6 weeks!
