16

Late, getting out stuff stuck in glasses, bits of food, a sodden cigarette, she thought: Polish the will if you polish anything.

She thought: We never succeed; and she held that for a long time. Later, still busy bringing it all back up to mind, she thought: I was hoping to be smooth. There were no meet words, only rules.

A body withers, working slowly, quietly, an epitaph to the inflamed, and all the course changers of the human.

The distance between one and another is intimate, but there's the matter of touching without damage. What's so easy to see through can still be sharp. A shaky hand makes and receives impairment. Confidence does it, made and broken on the wheel, turning its trick in the glittering light.

And in that light, efficient heels and correct speeds, the most skilled branches of existence... there are breakages.

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21

there are breakages certainly

although bone can withstand more pressure than reinforced concrete

the psyche has its own architectures which pay little heed to gravity

an entire city can be populated on foundations little bigger than an ant

I have often watched these insects crawling across the desolations of tables

in such malarial humidities perception is closed to a perimeter of twenty feet

the night is making jaguar roars to scare away the blue skinned natives

within the circle of sight all objects are pretenaturally large and clear

I sip again the vitreous humours of my companions

and I have detached each lunate from each wrist and woven a palace from each

the dust from the ulysses butterfly is an excellent material for windows

such altitudes are dizzying but easily dispersed in alcohol

later the body will wither and every capitol crash to the earth