I can love you face to face but not on the internet. Inductive reasoning about what it means to be human. Fevered in a dead-end street. Poems jam the inbox. Of course the world is full of ambient awfulness. Sad state physics. In an uprising you must imagine no past and no future. This effort is ongoing and imperfect. Puddles reflecting trees. Little weeds poke up out of mud. What about a t-shirt that says I Remember the Information Superhighway. Puddles reflecting construction signage. How devoted are you to your performance. Dropping into character on the train. Defenders call this mob mentality. I guess I’m more interested in freedom of assembly. The people I know versus the people I know. Oil all over the coastline. How working on your reading skills might mean working on your feelings. Long catastrophe of the enlightenment. A body’s limit is where it touches something not itself. Knowing as a speculative project. Drunk on camera sound. Going over the river again and again. Containers falling off ships in high seas. As if a person could be a diffuse film of consciousness spread over everything. At the edge of Brooklyn where they keep warehouses and birdsong. You go down easy like a baby. Phone call from an airport bar. You started to give off the Scent of Mortality. This seat is reserved. How to tally the times you vanish into a lit screen. Let’s not get all sci-fi about this. History continuous or swerving. I can’t keep a secret. I can’t plan ahead.
The line ‘In an uprising you must imagine no past and no future’ is a paraphrase of a point in Anthony Reed’s Freedom Time: The Poetics and Politics of Black Experimental Writing; the line ‘The effort is ongoing and imperfect’ is a paraphrase of something said by Jennifer Tamayo at the Enough is Enough meeting at the Poetry Project on November 6, 2014.