01
Stubborn refusal, strict adherence. The last hour of a kind of commitment to a firm stance. A dance emerges.
02
It's always on. Can I stop yet. The reach is that it's work to show up. Every word is reached to, scrutinized and doubted. Why reach? Muscles atrophy.
03
Attention and decay have a close affinity. They tie together hip to hip and swing around.
04
Every post has unintended audiences. We just try to hide our hearts from them.
05
Bacteria reached for all of us and now we quarantine. But also — new computer money. Yay.
06
It's a clicking wind. A clatter of boards against sidewalks. Things falling into place.
Pages, not essay. Six short answers to six prompts on a threshold evening — the end of one transit and the front edge of the next, the body two days into antibiotics, the household quarantining. Posted as found.