The Logistics of the Whole Thing


The road made itself in the air //         became a necklace of thickened particles:     //

you could feel it from some angles but not others      //                       like it dipped beneath

the skin           //                     made me think of the ultrasound technician pulling an invisible

thread             //          unknotting     //            from my gelled sternum to the screen’s grainy

fault line, //

                      showed something like a ruffle she referred to as ‘busy tissue’              //

                      There are

collages all through this house in which I am standing in armbands //         and

pink jelly sandals         //           steadying myself on a gravel driveway’s white noise.


hate how I don’t remember any of it, //           but in the background of one photo

golden light diffuses through a hydrangea bush’s curved side            //


If I were to sit //                         at one end of a bench we could be equidistant         //

and then we wouldn’t have to keep measuring              // like how are people going for walks

// in parks together really, at the moment       // (this taps into a general curiosity I have, 

about //

how other people do various things, how often do you condition your hair in truth // I have

a feeling //

everyone’s better at water consumption than I          //

                                                //            ditto for regular exercise         //

                                                              and things like changing the loofah in your shower)

but if I imagine us walking through a park together maintaining distance                   //

I just keep thinking of the Hotel Yorba video           // and the length of connecting string //

                 // I think    //      I’m going to refract into the sunlit biscuit colour of this sitting 

room //