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The queerest re-imagining of Frankenstein yet.
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He said, think about it like this. Do fish ever touch? I mean, consciously.
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Our bodies give themselves away, as plain as the noses on our faces. Or the Tweets we write after midnight.
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berries inside a utensil tray
crater for neptune rising
revived in limbed exhaustion
In honour of the 200th anniversary of Mary Shelley’s seminal Gothic horror tale Frankenstein, we explore the hybrid and monstrous nature of digital media with Frankenletter—five days of Frankenstein-themed writing.
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Is it terrestrial? It slopes across the screen, sensory and sniffing needles darting around the LED display. In its wake, a dancing thick goo obstructing.
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