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By series: Bridge St  In Yr Ear  Ruthless Grip

I Walked in the House

I walked in the house
on the flat aspect of the wood.

I took rectangular instruction of the wood

when I walked I turned at the wall
and on the flat I moved steadily

unimpeded, not tumbling, climbing or short of breath.
I walked in ease on the flat.

 

 

                                                         Something electric charged into our account
and zinged out of it, pre-instructed

and paid for the house. I felt
house on my heel then instep and toe.
I had a bad foot and I paid
to get it fixed so I could walk here.
I paid for the house and I paid for the
foot that touches it. I paid to be
directed rectangularly and down a hall,
I curved my body to direct
my waste through a hole. I am helped
and paying for it.

all of me exchanged,
housing exchange.

 

 

                              I saw us standing
     up in the world.
            And we sank into
  exchange
 vibrating transparency
The edges of the sea-veil
    tensed slapping above, visible
when the wind crevassed and doilied, or the
light      zagged on a teetering rim

 

                                                         If there is a ceiling to exchange
                                                                     and above it sky
                                                         I don't can't see it and I don't know why
                                                                     I want it
                                                         above my house which is crystalline gel edges

          because the whole world's disappeared
                                                                                  viewed as exchange

 

 

I broke my arm and the window
integrally to exchange.

I paid someone to fix me and improve
the window, triple-glazing it, and warmer
I rebounded     knit in knit up.
All parties to the event's aftermath
                  were paid.

 

 

Suppose I did not go in pain
                to hospital, did not visit and revisit
for x-rays, left the window smashed
                and sat here by it,
            stuck up
                ugly among the crystalline
                      and cold.
                      I was painful and determined
                      not to play, and with the other unemployed

          weighed—

          the ghostship
sagged with holes.

 

 

 

                                              —So you want to be a thing outside exchange?

                                              Drain out the dying bath
                                              see what color you are?

 

                            One can't breathe outside exchange.

 

 

 

          Coins are flat and have two sides

          the world divides accordingly into questions and
bipolar chance. Do I love you?

                           The coin changed hands

identical       with a will
to transact.