Monday, April 24, 2017

seasonal

iron cringed, a crumple zone earmarked for. slotted bark as counting/not counting. leaves cover for your absence, barely or poorly, but unasked. infection travels or replaces, sometimes visible. alignment not discarded because how? a vacancy that cannot be filled in, only rotated through, clumsy as the tilt of the earth, an injury only compensated for by a lurch, what we call seasonal availability: a managed turbulence, a pretend controlled skid, a waiting through even if unable to move.

seasonal availability is subject to itself, dropping out or rearranging the order of presentation. sometimes, like today's night in the car on the way to the food store, hopes for volcanic ash blockadings increase sharply before forgotten like when losing one's way or going over unexpected speed bumps, jarring the car or out of focus, an unsafe driving practice even if directly prior to parking and staring out the windshield for minutes at nothing before collecting the scattered things and going into the store to give up whatever is left.

tuesday is always gone, even before it gets here, even when here, but when gone a kind of superimposed blurring, unevenly matching with every other tuesday never remembered as tuesday but nonetheless missing from the week like a hole in the gumline queried absently while shopping or cursing silently or less than silently. this wasn't chosen but reiterated, unrecorded.

filigree, a spiralling out, burn mark atop burn mark, having been turned around, a lack of spatial orientation misaddressed and now

a day like a hand bitten off by a wolf

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