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Sunday, April 8, 2018

An Elaborate Kind of Turn

When emotion becomes uncontainable, what
happens when we map the cave, visit the penguin

colony, create a database of all the flowering trees
in our quadrant of the city? I've said that linoleum

would be better than wall-to-wall, that a cave
is as good as a portal, that I'm sorry for breaking

that vase while doing a particular kind of pirouette
with a name I don't know then remember:

fouettees rond de jambe en tournant. It's absurd
to wake up in bed instead of somewhere on the

Platte River in Nebraska at sunset, near migrating
sandhill cranes. In the story, she does not dream of levitating.

She just levitates.

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