it seems so far away, long ago...
something about two thousand and one
came creeping in through the carpet
i dusted many hours before this
tread that keeps dirtying up
all the meagerness in beige
one floor can hold

smooth elevator ride to the top
trembles at the brass doorknob
veins like downy spiders' legs
spreading out soft, red, over me
rethreading my thoughts
that linger on, warm;
a loop.

i make sure, to look back before i fall
so i can see my wings disintergrating.

****************************************

"And Yann Tierson’s Amelie, well, I had just discovered it that summer, two or three or whatever number of years after it came out and an entire winter after Walker kept playing it at the house on idaho, saying how it reminded him of that moment from drinking when you are on your tiptoes and the world is shiny and smooth, that moment right before you fall. He is exactly right of course, straight edged as he is."

above reposted from something written during residence at the choo choo train. note the obsession with the word smooth. also the word downy and the iconography of 'the fall,' 'the void' or La chute, die Lucke, so ugly in other languages. should i live only for the phd. or should i live?