emily dickinson was a transcendentalist American poet and achieved some sort of sainthood for the worlds she made in seclusion.

emily dickinson was vicious, erinye-like, took long walks through djerba's lawns and found herself entwined in roshanitsa's triangle of fate. though her poetry is dogshit, nobody else I know had the balls to to compare themselves to emily dickinson.

I thought I'd never see her again. But by the will of trickster gods, I see her quite frequently now, whenever I go to the chess club. She beats me, like she beats everybody else.