New & Elusive Harkening
Consider the river of shit that runs through you the duration of your life; you are the portal and
lock, the valley carved among the bedrock of tasks performed for all the most trivial satisfactions. Begonia
Consider the ocean of tears that overflows its levies & recedes again, depths of potential & unknown force & under, the cracked plates that shift unseen & patient, ready to wet the cheek. Begonia
What the world wants said courses through the net and maybe’s caught for a while – too long, usually, you find – until some suitable sound crowns the throat, & then swims back out again. Begonia
I have always wanted to believe in God, if only to give my hands something to pick at. In the gallery at the Met, or when shopping at Target. In between items I’ve written on a grocery list. Begonia I don’t think that’s going to happen anymore. I think – and the older I get, the more sure I am about this – that I haven’t moved since the moment I was born, but am waiting things out, looking for some opportunity.
The world’s furious song flows through my bank account.
Begonia There’s this way people have of saying – people interviewed on the radio, etc. – when asked a technical question only they can answer, begin without artifice or subterfuge: So. Or okay so. Begonia It’s expected the continuum extends, but to imagine it scribes an infinite line off the page to the left and off to the right is what defines me as human. There are limits to what the body allows. Begonia Consider the depth of graves, the average height of the westerner. Consider the average length of a commute. Consider the contest to draw a perfect circle with chalk on a slate. Consider what it means to win that contest. Consider learning to spell as a form of current, a capacitor. The body needs food, sure, but I’d argue food needs the body more, and grows just for us. Begonia