Nilufar Karimi
Dystopia in Which My Neighbor Wants to Play Turmoil
There is a 6,000 ft. rift between us that expands when you
[Press down]. As a child you fell into a wide, pink well
unknown as the inside of a body a mile from your father’s home
you were rescued, but only now are you climbing out. I’m sorry
I forgot the meaning of your body [Press for land]
splits open like a well falling through a body falling through a well
there is a lack of the mother in the gamescape. Plenty of isometric side-
scrolling affection. Let’s say the word “turmoil” comes from “oil.” Well,
then you [Jump for a second life]. Did you know throats
can fill with fire to bake the tiles that line their homes? It’s well
within their capacity to expand vertically
into this earth. Did you know how to come home well?
come home [Click arrow up 6,000 ft.] each oil field feels
repetitive come home I see your hands in the well
chrome under moon brown over machine. What welling
up of life. What waiting, watching of mountain range you know so well.