we accidentally imagine

by andrew yoon

seed 2054426

it is 2026. we wonder what to say next, and the wind is still blowing.

six.

fixed link mutable link
silence and quiet now. a
small voice humming and
laughing in the other room. a
crystal or some melting snow.
behinds toward while again
around where's or why's while
leftandright shrinking silently. a
wooden creak. a scratch. all
centers things happening all
around, things just happening
and just being the way they
are. and we realize that this
is a beautiful thing. that
this is a beautiful thing.

nineteen.

fixed link mutable link
the corner of the room
empty except for the little
grooves in the floorboard, we
smile. the moments going and
going in such a beautiful way
that we can't take our eyes
off it, noticing just how
inconsistent things are, how blurry
and arbitrary the
differences seem between things and
people and ideas, how musical a
painting can sound the ink never
seems to dry.

five.

fixed link mutable link
quietingly, the
softmurmurs not trying to say
anything in particular or
convince anyone of anything,
prefering to let things just exist
the way they are and stay the
same when they need to stay
the same and change when
they need to change, or not
even need to stay the same or
need to change but maybe
instead want to stay the same or
want to change, or rather: it
just happens. it just
happens, and it keeps just
happening. the softmurmers not
even speaking about what's
going on or what's not going on
but instead just
mentioning about whatever is on
their mind at that moment,
letting it out and letting it go,
the sound waves not
disappearing but echoing off a
thousand surfaces and every
blade of grass, split and
muffled and distorted and
echoed until they sound like
dead trees, the sun pushing
the waves around a little
through the screen door, gnats
in the air just sort of
moving around.

eight.

fixed link mutable link
we accidentally
imagine ourselves as having for
a head this strangely
shaped box or a bird feeder with
a triangular roof or
something similar and we are
sitting in the front passenger
seat of an old car and someone
we care a lot about asks,
who are you? and we
think for a minute, and then
another. we aren't able to answer
with anything except a held
hand, and we somehow find
ourselves caring more about them
just because they asked.
they can't answer either,
and the grip gets tighter
and they aren't making eye
contact but that's okay because
we aren't looking anyway
and we are both these
strange wooden boxes attached
to bodies, heads without
eyes which still say so much,
eyes without laughinglines
which always find new things
to smile about an itch
behind our ears, the way this
piece of paper falls on the
ground, the sound of an overhead
lamp switching on laughing
about nothing in particular
and everything in
particular, wanting to want
everything and wanting to want
nothing, to feel everything and
to feel nothing, or at
least something the grip
getting tighter and we remember
how okay it is, how
beautiful it is and how funny it is
that poetry and music might
be the same thing after
all, that hiding is okay
sometimes and being naked is okay
too, that sometimes things
lead to other things, and
sometimes they don't, and
sometimes things just happen and
they keep just happening and
they don't stop. they don't
stop and it seems like they
never will, so it starts
making sense to just accept
this and close our eyes and
smile a little but somehow
this feels impossible. we
get frustrated and start to
do things we don't want to
do, blaming other people
for things nobody had
control over in the first place
and jumping to conclusions
and making assumptions
about other people and their
intentions and what they want or
what they are afraid of. we
forget that they are us, that
their grip is getting tighter
and that nothing is okay for
them either. we remember
that their boxy head is
crying and we have been trying
not to notice. we remember
that we are all the same
person born into different
bodies, and that this is a
beautiful thing. this is a
beautiful thing. this is a
beautiful thing.

three.

fixed link mutable link
how did we get here? the
questions which keep making their
way inside our mouths as if
we never could learn from
the last time we couldn't
answer and instead only become
more unhappy and began to
throw things at the walls with
some inexpressible anger
screaming and shouting with a red
face and bulging veins,
fists again and again against
the door not even caring
what's on the other side, too
caught up with the idea of the
door being there in the first
place another why and another
if causing the lights to
flicker and the stove to begin to
smell like something is
burning so we all try to remember
what we had done in the
kitchen last but we can't
remember, and even the attempts to
remember make us shout with fewer
words, make us scream with our
fingers and pound harder and
harder on the door while the
wood is splintering here and
there and the doorframe
appears to budge this time or
that time or this time again
and again and again

eleven.

fixed link mutable link
we keep asking
questions like “will this make me
happy?” when instead it might be
more interesting to ask what
it would sound like if the
leaves on every tree were poems
written on little sheets of
paper and everybody in the
world began to read them out
loud all at the same time and
then the wind began to blow
and the poems went flying in
the air all around and
everybody just watched it happen
in complete silence we
can't help but smile a little,
and then a lot. and someone
hugs the stranger to their
left and we all begin to
laugh. we ask ourselves
another question we can't hear
because of all the wind and
poems, and that's just fine we
realize we didn't want to know
the answers anyway when
there are so many confusing
and beautiful things all
around us anyway. we just keep
laughing and grabbing poems out
of the air, sometimes
deciding to read them and
othertimes using them as napkins.
the wind, the wind is
laughing too.

twenty seven.

fixed link mutable link
of if somehow . moment we
are in our foreheads, that
windows now our stinging notice
in the floorboard caused
wooden panels and walls panels
and walls scratch on every
and scratch the face lot ,
how each wires behind the
desk if someone did it on are
our are incense is that
might be warm breathe now. we
breathe and notice each each
groove paint every walls of
paint the of, how lot in the
wires if if if these a outside
our bodies we outside
incense is our incense is
somehow the incense is that it
warm enough might be warm
enough feel this stinging
sensation in our this stinging
sensation feel this stinging now
what what wooden wooden
walls of paint we how each knot
behind the desk happened if did
purpose things just sort of
happen we on their sort feel
like like we outside our
bodies bodies, that the
incense is somehow in warm , it in
outside to open stinging in came
from what caused each groove
and walls wooden scratch
face about the wires behind
the did it on purpose of if
just sort happen our like
floating outside our foreheads
foreheads it our foreheads ,
windows now this stinging
sensation in in now small the
floorboard and ask came from caused
each groove panels the the we
about, in the someone someone
if these things just if
things their own somehow like
we we are somehow enough
the and feel this stinging
our hands stinging
sensation in the floorboard the
panels paint every freckle and
of paint and walls every
and scratch care, how each
about, behind the desk
happened , just own somehow.
their own somehow . we close
our eyes for. we for a our
eyes a are moment and that our
bodies the incense warm enough
our floorboard and ask
panels freckle and scratch ,
each

twenty five.

fixed link mutable link
and with fewer mistakes
, repetition getting a
little more getting, a
accurate, a little accurate,
faster a little more accurate a
little getting every
repetition little getting more
accurate a little little faster
and little faster and
little more listening. every
repetition getting pretend best to
pretend we while we do our best to
pretend our best outside
becoming heated outside going on
outside becoming heated
outside becoming we aren't
listening. every repetition
getting, a accurate little
accurate little faster and with.
a more accurate, more. we
aren't every a little more
accurate, a conversation going
on outside becoming we
best to pretend we more
accurate and with becoming
heated while we becoming
heated while our best we do our
while listening, more
accurate little more accurate,
more accurate little more
faster a little faster little
more a little more getting a
little more accurate little
more a little more accurate
every repetition getting
more accurate, a fewer
mistakes. the conversation a
little faster fewer mistakes.
going on conversation going
on outside going on to.
little more accurate aren't we
do our best to. our we do our
best to pretend we. every a
accurate little little with
fewer mistakes. a little
faster little more accurate,
with

twenty.

fixed link mutable link
while ?” and, for once
from outside does for once,
it does. and, for once does
damp. slowmoving sound. we
notice maybe “can , for once, it
does. sticks from it does
damp sticks. is so pink but
for now we stay like this for
a don't. “can for once the
smell it does of damp sticks a.
how everything remember
pink we “can for while ?” and
it stay once,. we so
slowmoving sound outside.. we so
pink but for a while. stay
like. for stay while it a
everything is so pink maybe we, but
we remember for now we
don't. “can it we “can it stay
like this for a while for once
, and, it does for once ,
smell of slowmoving sound . we
notice how everything
remember how sound.. a
slowmoving from outside. the smell
from outside. a slowmoving
sound. we from slowmoving
sound. is maybe we remember
why, but for stay while, for
smell, for once, and once the
sticks. so pink why stay like a
and for we don't like for now
we don't. “can it stay like
this now it ?” and once , it
does . sticks from outside. a
. we notice, don't and.
slowmoving smell outside
slowmoving sound notice is so pink
don't. a while, damp sticks
from outside. the, a while
for once this for , for this
“can while ?” and , for once
for it stay like this for
once ?” and, for it, the smell
of damp sticks from
outside. a . we sticks

thirteen.

fixed link mutable link
we wait for a few minutes
and wonder if it would be
okay for us to ask now: "is
this beautiful?" we wonder
if nobody noticed and we
watch the air just sort of move
around through the leaves. we
take another breath with the
sunlight and feel warmer.
throughs and arounds
behindingly the now nowing while
again the time continues and
stops and continues again.
circles of ink we close our eyes.

twenty one.

fixed link mutable link
we wonder what would
make us happy, what would
make this headache go away
which keeps distracting us
from everything going on the
scratching pens and observations,
a quote out of context we
leave the incense burning
when we go to sleep even
though we know it's a fire
hazard and it puts our lives in
danger and the lives of all the
other people living above and
below us, and all of the people
we know and the people who
care about what happens to us
even though we never asked
them to. we wonder why it
should matter that something
happens to anyone, we wonder why
we care. and everything is
so quiet.

twenty nine.

fixed link mutable link
we ever even things is
that we about things like
numbers and of the week two
things like if time might if
someone might sound like
someone were to listen (we
trying they listened.
worrying so much about
scheduling and books thinking (not
worrying ) about what might out in
sense of begin with , just
going by one next word just
things then laugh at is that and
the week two the same time
might sound nobody is if they
they write worrying about
scheduling and start (not
breakfast why in cross one are
without any we thing out in
another when we to begin lines
one by with a scratchy by a
going straight on pen lines by
one with word which bounces
and. we suspect that things
just smile a is that how
absurd it ever even is that even
of what numbers and of the
week, what two things at the
same time might sound like if
someone listen if someone were
to suspect nobody is
listened scheduling ) might be
tomorrow or out another when we
are writing sense, with
lines one begin with, going
across pen and with a scratchy
and going ear going with it
and still just going with
and just going our ear with
somehow and we can't help but
smile and then laugh about
things like happening time
might like is ) and if they down
as they listened. we stop
start thinking (not worrying
) cross when we are
writing without any just one
with pen and going straight
on to word which bounces
going with just happen
somehow help things just
somehow smile and then laugh
even things like days of,
what two things happening
the nobody they listened .
stop things were trying to
write things were trying down
trying things down as they
listened. we stop worrying start
so much books and start
thinking (not breakfast
tomorrow or why we are writing
without any particular sense,
across by with, a scratchy pen
which going straight on to
next word which bounces ear
just going with bounces
through just going with it and
still going. happen somehow
little and then laugh at think
about numbers and days the
week, like same listen (we
suspect nobody is ) and if they
were trying worrying so much
about what might be breakfast
worrying ) about for breakfast in
place of another to writing
without any sense when we

twenty four.

fixed link mutable link
trying. okay, and
sometimes from one okay,
sometimes and to. and and are that
sometimes sometimes sometimes,
and even. things are not
okay it happens that go that
we go other things, and
sometimes, and and they are, one go
from to the , and and
sometimes they and sometimes it
happens that we go from one to
even . and sometimes are not
okay okay, they, and happens
that sometimes. and
sometimes it from one happens that
, they are are sometimes
it happens one. are not not
. and they are, and
sometimes go from the. sometimes
things are happens one to that
other without things are not
they they are sometimes it
happens that we go from are not
okay, it happens that we
other without even sometimes
not we from trying . and
things are and sometimes, it.
and sometimes the other
without. sometimes. and
sometimes without even trying,,
and okay, and happens that
go from one to to the other.
and sometimes things are
not okay they are , they are
happens that one to from one
other without trying. not
okay, and sometimes it and
and and and okay, sometimes
they are, and and sometimes
it to trying to . and
sometimes okay , and sometimes
that that we go . not okay,
sometimes that we happens go from
one to okay and okay and
happens that we from one happens
that we without

thirty one.

fixed link mutable link
shuffling feet a
shelves old an or is a librarian
or old friend we friend we
haven't seen in a don't remember
even though years sun came
back old cell left cell phone
cell phone an the
ventilation remember that of toward
, when doors and growing
we expect some kind some
kind have consistency is and
allowing things which not so not
so not so temperature
outside minds or shoelaces tied
or untied tangled up
tangled spoiled we we remember
having control over the also
means having world over the
world also the world,
beautiful okay watch the ground,
following the to the pollen
following a path at the same time
the the and somewhere a the
air's path, standing around
for hours supposedly doing
some job playing some call
society we call we don't even
what understand what anyone
is understand saying or it
outside, falling with and they
when so possibilities a
thought or up our sleeves when is
that there is the sky, on of.
different tones of voice tones
voice combinations of
imitating toes make or of it that
way. the that of prefer to
think of prefer to think down
we are a library where
library where language
recognize or thought colors the
shuffling feet librarian haven't

fourteen.

fixed link mutable link
agains the wayingsong a
we or to while behind the
eyelids, and underthere, a
beforemaroon, the eyes again with
questions and ideas how to see
under a color when we are stuck
inside it these things all
moving so slowly but the clock
seems to be working as usual
with those clunks and little
fingers and woodenbits we
suggest a counterpoint. and the
conversation stays the same and
nobody really seems to care
about the wind.

zero.

fixed link mutable link
and all at once things
are so quiet, a tiny hiss
from the walls, distant
clanging of a ventilation fan. we
breathe with the sunlight,
passing clouds causing these
little pulses in the sunglow
and somehow we feel it in our
toes even though we can't
quite tell why the wind
chooses the pitches it sings
against the window, why one
harmony should point to
another, why every story has some
sort of climax where
elements and trajectories
culminate into some bigger thing
as if we had been heading
there all along as if there
were some kind of purpose
behind the penscratches or
where this leaf decides to
fall in this rotting pile we
notice a pain in our lower back
from bad posture and some
strange sense of pressure from
the bottom of our right foot
now the ventilation fan
slowing down into a periodic
banging; we notice a coin lying on
the ground but we can't make
out which side it landed on.
do we care? is it good to
care? would it matter if we
knew? we are staring at the
coin and the coin is staring
back.

nine.

fixed link mutable link
we are breathing. and we
are still breathing. one
thought and another passing by
in the street while we ask
ourselves if this is going
anywhere if we should instead be
focusing on something else like
the way the smoke is
drifting away from the incense
stick, or the sound our eyelids
make when we blink. is there a
place for rushing anymore?
the softmurmurs again,
reminding us about our breath: and
a little blue bird lands
on the windowsill. it is
singing.

one.

fixed link mutable link
and just like that, the
page turns for us. the next
series of random numbers fill
the screen and we begin to
imagine dots and we begin to
connect them and agree and
disagree with them, relate to
them and question them and
share them. the page glares.
we glare. everybody is
glaring and nobody is laughing
and then one of us starts
laughing, and another one of us
starts laughing, and we are all
laughing and the paper is
laughing and the inkdots are
laughing: the numbers are
laughing too.

twenty three.

fixed link mutable link
somehow it on for a if but
care. we that happy or feel
more human laughing and, the
wind keeps keep and in an
instant what it is, what air just
in being absorbed the
floorboards pushes bits makes us so
squirrels climb trees quickly and
how cars turn their wheels
if it be of, story without
bricks some rock the opinions
the and the smiles hugs,
paints keep our best circles
ink from the but notice
moment all the piece of paper
and how the we it for moment
anything all. are repeating
themselves we that more happy or

eighteen.

fixed link mutable link
systems all around us
and our lives fracturing
breaking apart piece by piece as
we keep trying to glue
things back together with
words and theories and poems
and cathedrals
architectures in the mind and and later
in concrete, we begin to
feel jittery as we realize we
haven't stood up in hours, this
chair and its arms a little too
narrow, pressing against the
sides of our skulls, plurals
and singulars not having so
much significance to us now
when the lights are
flickering so subtly. we pray but
don't know who we are praying
to who we are praying for,
what we want, what we should
want. fading. fading.

sixteen.

fixed link mutable link
the and somehow smoke in
still glowing and stick
remember that stick of many lines
so. still glowing and
forget. and we breathe in our we
breathe. we we and and!! isn't it
laughing laughing ! isn't it help
help but! isn't it help but
smile when the right on cue
shades sun starts shades of of
these colors remember and so
lines. we remember that the
the stick of and our lungs we
our to. we we our lungs we
breathe and breathe we forget
laughing it we can't help but
smile smile when the sun of
these colors whose can't
names we can't remember lines
of incense still glowing
somehow becoming and somehow
becoming and somehow becoming
stick of. we in our lungs and we
breathe we can't help help but
but back starts the sun
can't help but smile help
right on cue back right on we
lines and and many we many
lines of incense is is of
incense is still still breathe
and our breathe in our
glowing remember our lungs in
our breathe we laughing!
isn't funny questions. sun
starts coming back these
shades cue shades lines and
lines and we that glowing and
stick of incense is and
somehow becoming smoke our
lungs breathe forget to..
laughing! isn't when the coming
coming back right on cue we
can't so many can't whose
names remember that the and
and so many lines. we
remember stick that the stick
smoke in lungs we our our lungs
we breathe smoke in
breathe and ask questions. ask
forget isn't

thirty.

fixed link mutable link
and we are answer we and
then we. know.. begin to we
begin laugh, and laugh, can't
aimless second a new so, so much,
so much, important like,
question comes to can't good
question at the moment a
important important is so, so,
think of a to how able read bad.
we laugh we wonder what
might nothing ever and
changes and we ask ourselves we
are

fifteen.

fixed link mutable link
looking we left but we
instincts but we all all these ways
and because amplifying
across a group of people
thought why they thought funny
when there, every single car
a different struggle
behind there was more time..
the just another like. from
situations branching into entire
stories into some
incomprehensible tree to weigh one that
seems one we, at least we go
looking for at go go looking for
we left different,
different are don't know know of of
these these why

ten.

fixed link mutable link
we ask ourselves some
question we can't hear, muffled
because our heads are
underwater, this cold sensation
pressing on our foreheads while
we feel our socks becoming
heavy, cottonfibers grabbing
skin and dragging behind our
feet, cold passing between
our toes. maroon painted
walls and a thick sweater,
crinkling plastic bag full of
snacks. we notice it is becoming
later every moment, and that
as soon as we count one
number there is another in
front of that, always room for
another one or zero or eighty
seven or pencilcase
dirtyshoe, these power outlets
rusting over even though we
can't see where the water
could have come from fading in
the carpet telling which
way people walk most
without asking why they walk it
so often when it seems
there are so, so many other
ways to go and that this way
isn't even the easiest or most
efficient or beautiful or
surprising: they are taking the path
because it is the path they take,
and we can't help but
laughalittle at how beautiful that is
not to say that one is better
than another or that anyone
is wrong for going the way
they do or that we think we are
better than going that
particular way to the couch, but
that we know in the end we are
going to go that way too and
that's just fine. it's just as
good an option as any so we
don't see a reason why not it's
beautiful enough and it's
surprising enough and that itself
may be the most beautiful
and surprising thing of all
at the moment.

two.

fixed link mutable link
because the longer we
stare at the details, the less
we are sure they even
matter.

twenty six.

fixed link mutable link
point that could be the
point. interactions. spray
paints all these a all just
smile happens into making
themselves shapes the geometries
geometries seem to direction. not
going the way intended, could
be the ideas and
interactions again. ideas the and
while while happens things
each other which always the
the wrong direction the way
way we expected or. goals
sneaking into. ideas point.
goals sneaking into the
thoughts

twelve.

fixed link mutable link
we never seem to notice
the changes until they've
already happened. or at least
they are well into
happening. we wonder why that is:
the clouds evaporating and
the sun coming out, the air
getting so slightly warmer; a
single row of bricks painted a
different color. who the behinds
through before how's and where
when whenever the
againagain the words repeatingly
as we notice a little
cottonfluff drifting toward us. it
sticks to our ink, and we ask
again where meaning comes
from. a million coins being
thrown every instant, fields
of possibility so
terrifyingly wide staring us in the
eye so intensely we have to
look away and we notice this
little bug just flying around,
landing, and flying around
again. flying, landing, and
flying around again.

four.

fixed link mutable link
it's hard to speak
sometimes. we are frustrated with
ourselves for our
inconsistencies once at peace and
allowing things to be just the way
they are and want to be,
always taking action and never
taking action,
leftandrighting with the leftandright
once again wishing things
were a different way or that
the coin had landed on the
other face; we can't figure
out who we are, and we aren't
quite sure if that question
leads anywhere hard to find
the energy to say anything,
too many responses waiting
behind each option which never
seem to go anywhere
positive, anywhere that doesn't
hurt anybody or dissipate
into the grass as if nothing
had happened in the first
place and we begin to wonder if
anything actually did or does
happen or if we had somehow just
thought it all up out of some kind
of desperation and
confusion aimed at nothing in
particular, cycles going back and
forth but never quite the same
way, always surprising
somehow and adding to the
confusion and lack of any sense of
place, the feeling that we are
nowhere and the feeling that we
are getting nowhere.

twenty eight.

fixed link mutable link
and close our eyes and
just we close let it our eyes
and. we close our eyes and
eyes listen to wind feel the
sun warming sun warming our
airplanes feel the to the wind and
feel the sun we sun the the
wind and airplanes and feel
just about anything,
anything could it these people
they explain they learned to
toward their each other the. so
of all events forth
without permanent mark even
dams and enormous statues
collapse things just always were
going what they do they were
patterns in a we leaves all up if
that could really to look
branches. and now someone we
comes walking by , walking
don't look so they don't they
don't see us and quietly
understood to not say that
sometimes we can we just be. and
they know , they and they walk
out, really. sight matter,
wonder glance at matter,
another happens which doesn't
and another out of sight and
another out sight. and and clock
if wonder if , and it isn't
now notice that front and is
we looks when the lead with
our hand but and lead try and
hand but somehow it all
sticks that the might make us
somehow

twenty two.

fixed link mutable link
call bird call but smile
at the at the at we. we can't
help but but smile at the and
and somehow sort of harmony
against all acoustic
vibrations we hear all acoustic
vibrations making us feel okay
which one which slantingway
okay. which slantingway or
thing work ? and the
vibrations inside sounds . we aware
of our actions but are to to
but the to notice . the sun
sun making this fuzzy kind
of sound against and
second hand ticking the again
the thisthat theringly.
again the all a while longer
seasonal allergies . a bird call .
we can't help but people
voices against windchimes and
we harmony hear all these
acoustic

seventeen.

fixed link mutable link
marbles in a glass bowl,
not going anywhere in
particular seeming to wonder where
the birds get their
melodies, their strange rhythms
tinkling or rubbing cardboard.
the dark bottle looking
right back, eyes glimmering
so loudly with the
sunlight or fluorescent
flickerings or uncharged
batteries. the lithium looking for
water. how's this different?
asking between colorshades
and subject matter like it
were important or something
or something or something
or anothersong
thismomentingly or an old box of cereal,
casting shadows longer than
expected somehow while the light
reflects in its own color onto the
walls and the nearby desk
surface, papers scattered from
months before piled over each
other, some important some not
so much, some with colors
and blindly drawn
paintings and some printed out
from an old black and white
laser jet printer, whatever
that means, whatever those
meaning.

seven.

fixed link mutable link
tangling wires into
these bizarre shapes, rugs
with strange colors and
melodies waitingly, taking deep
breaths before the speech where
we finally speak our
minds: "won't everybody
please, please stop this
cruelty? can't we see how
unnecessary it is?" some glass
window creaking under winds,
some oil spilled in a parking
lot. how again the why's and
who's before and after or some
some behind throughingly, a
manual for writers of research
papers about electrical
engineering and game theory,
complex analysis and early
marxist painting; the
walls of this place have
shoulders that are
sagging, somewhere in these
pages an actual answer to a
question that matters. a new pair
of jeans, a holiday
decoration left up for months, a
lightbulb which doesn't fit even
though we could have sworn the
size was right at the store.
color combinations making us
feel sick and wonder why we
care about the dissonance,
why we should prefer one to
the other. we conclude that
we're all just bits of air
moving with the waves of some
song we can't hear: now
banging on the wooddrums, the
thoughts and the doubts, hopes or
imaginations throwing fists at the
organ keyboard, some body of
loud waters, some
electrical structure groaning in
rains particles trapped in
the breezings, the sine
waves, the eyeballs thrown
left and right or up and down
or is that a sign of
happiness, of
peacefulness? who's to tell what's
harmony and what's dissonance?
who's to tell the words of the
song when each moment's just
a few bits of data? hard to
see the picture from a
pixel, hard to find the poem
through a word a letter an inkdot
the arounds and behinds
lost somewhere in the mix,
the breath being exhaled
before we even noticed it was
inside our bodies, each note
rising just a little higher or
just a little more like dirty
wallpaper: we ask each other where
it happened. where the
music got faster. where the
blue became green, where the
light was switched on and the
newer waves began to
interfere with things and distort
the shapes, canceling out
or multiplying or
performing more complicated
operations until the noise is noise
and the signal is noise and
the noise is still noise yet
somehow wider, more sideways
and spinningly and
uppingly and backwardly, more
harsh and out of sync, now neon
colorlines and batteries, strange
gaps in the spiral not
patterns but something about
them which makes us feel the
walls are moving further away
and the room is becoming
smaller, that one moment is
another and the second hand is
somehow different this time
around. we cannot help but go to
sleep again, this time with a
strange smile and already
looking forward to coffee. this
time with socks and a thicker
blanket. this time with the
windows open: and in comes the
cooler air.
,