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I Could Signal Dominance in Email Correspondence as Trained but the Concept Is Offensive and I’m Baby photo

To retain your power, 
drop the “I,” said somebody 

dead, whose wife probably 
typed his manuscripts. She might 

have been a tree, a shooting star, 
otherworldly spirit in a housedress, 

maybe was. We’ll never know— 
nobody took dictation for her shit.

So w(e)ary of the phrase “the industry.” 
I, I, I, I, the angel speaks herself, 

in a gay fantasia on national themes, 
her light dimmed that it might be visible 

to lesser “I”s. Don't tell me not to be 
an “I.” Be what, somehow-imposing 

conduit for info passed direct 
to consumer? I, I, I, I am not.

There is only one “I” in “sin-eater.” 
And only one wrong way to eat a Reese’s 

(NSFW). Slogan, “I”less dialect 
of business; the boys’ club learns withholding 

(their “I”s, much information) between power- 
stances at some seminar. With each dropped “I,” 

the glass coffin ascends, unburdened 
of a viewpoint. Sacred invocations 

for the ages: “yes.” “confirm receipt.” 
“under consideration.” “at this time.”


image: Aaron Burch