: rules : wind :

by Jessica Goodfellow

Wind is the opposite of gravity,
same species as even numbers,
revolving doors, third persons.
Shine of absence, god’s own
window, everyday chaos.
A map of memory resembles nothing
as much as wind
does (anybody). Be as wind—
losing nothing or losing everything.

Wind, like memory, has its own
grammar: all objects, no subjects,
no plurals. “Abyss” never splays
to “abysses.” What is “losses”
except “loss” without an axis?
Wind counts backwards
and forwards and is still
wind, doing nothing
one by one by one.

For example, wind would not
pull hairs from your hairbrush
strand by singular strand.
Nor lift yellow birds homeward
one fledgling per gust.
Nor unwing pale feathers of angels
dancing on erasers in the corner,
plucked seraphs reeling like bird-shaped
shadows flying just below the roof.

 

Read : glass : trap :  by Jessica Goodfellow.