keeps a catalogue of forgettable sounds–an interminable documentary, as if to forget anything completely was impossible to desire
Category: poetry
on the brink of giving up on heat, one big last ditch–to eat for warmth, to bathe for warmth, make love, find love in spite of itself, for warmth, then
stays and stays persistently–regardless of which solution, solutions, or lack thereof–finds the solution not in any solution or some lovely overrated bout of clarity, but in the fact and the unmistakable act of her staying–questions of sustainability aside
waits for a phone call, and waits to become almost about to take a shower, and waits for the air to go warm, warm enough to take off her clothes, one layer per, sometimes two in a fast season
falls out, and then promptly into a hunt for more hours–haunted by a line graph, and the dot marking the limit of things worth falling out for –pack everything into the breath of one second, one second at the very just before of that very dot
finds herself getting irritable, an itch everywhere, unsettles, and counters it with a reminder to treat things with love: handles on a mug, handles on a bike, love handles, handles on a pot of boiling water–only to return to her irritated state, but somewhat more generously
excepts a lot, greatness, nothing, but, and all, ends, participating, precipitations at the nearest corner
