THE END
All the humiliations of having a body. Is it load-bearing or cosmetic. Not signing the paperwork isn’t an option. You can’t write while walking. Plotted your point on the backlit map. Maybe the painting is by the coffee shop owner. Only one possible future will happen. Petrochemical film on the skin. Autodidacticism as autoeroticism. The comforting idea of interior fringes. The dream of unalienated movement. Is walking a kind of time travel. Clear umbrellas like huge helmets. The prescribed situation of video projection. A dispersed atmosphere of small compromises. Then a voice says crazy ass Brooklyn ass shit. You practice conversation to make it perfect. Exhaustion of a day in industrial ruins. A gift for the Poetry White Elephant. Filmed the sky out the train window again. Are you bleeding on your new leggings. Landscapes reverting to forest. Today’s snowflakes shrink and disappear. A street in Germany where a house once stood. This is what we call conceptual practice. A right ratio of ankle to shoe. Window fogged like a car in a teen movie. Purify your language of vernaculars. Is walking how you make friendship. Boots waiting by the empty doorframe. Sounds of water outside and in. If by somatic you mean doomed. First write the instructions then do the thing. Maneuver your umbrella with varying degrees of success. Hang a garland over the entrance. Think about how you might move that muscle. Where can I find the right kind of clothes. After the rash stayed for two years. Is walking a different kind of solitude. I stumbled over the book’s explanation. Don’t go home until rush hour’s over. Girl please don’t take it personal.
