Theory Girl

She doesn't believe in shooting stars. But she believes in shoes and cars. Her job is to have big boobs, and to speak eloquently of things. Her eyes flit and dangle as you talk to her. At bottom her nature is good and honest, although she may push back against notions of nature, providence, depth, etc. She is at once totally glamorous and completely unsheathed. I barely think about myself when I'm with her. I am just thinking of her when I am thinking of her. Every week she slays down. Even wearing camo. Abstract concepts are afraid of her. She reifies, and we watch. Perfumed frenchly and sloshing in skin, a lock of hair neither damaged nor new stoops to our level. From her we learn things about being-in-the-world and Kim Kardashian, Jacobin politics and who what being when where, and why. From her we learn why.