inspired by Gertrude Stein*


Wood turns hard and shows its spaces. This is less convincing. If it spoke more no one would listen. It is solid and we don’t fall through. It reminds there is no remembering.

The pieces don’t touch, just spaces and they are put together. This is what is done without thinking and we still remember. If something is seen and nothing more than that, it should seem normal and grey.

A flag is innocent and spreads. Its colors don’t move and are divided and smoke pulls off more. If it is done where the whole is partial, leave the tab.  

The grey, the color grey, needs nothing more and never asks of anything.

Overalls can be hard, where wool socks are underrated and tired. It stays this way.

How can something so gapped hold calmly? Not because there was a touching, but because of something less. The blanket is blue and grey and holds if nothing more than that.

If hands are obvious, if hands are obvious and touching and hard, still no one listens. If hands are obvious and so is wood, there is nothing more.

Blue is guaranteed. Blue is guaranteed and so static, but ready.

I climbed onto the shed roof
To be closer to the moon.
I wanted to feel everything.
I was greedy, I burst with desire
To have the stars, the brightness,
Even the dull glow of the streetlamp.

I wanted each grey shadow
On the face of the moon.

I jumped
From the shed, from a wall.
I thought I would fly.
But I landed so hard that the
Bones in my feet hurt.

The ground, it was as hard
As the faces of passers-by.