a concert of wind, but
what I
cannot escape
is the ambient noise of this 21st century which
creeps through the ducts of this house I could never live in
because it is too large and because
there is still
no room
I slip through the lack of cracks
why am I so far away?
this fold in myself where a fold was not
/ before
so far
between
because it is too large and because
it is still so far, there is still no room
which creeps through the distance
why is this so close?
the absence of wind I cannot escape
the ambient noise of—did I already distract myself enough?
did I already escape?
a subset of
a concern of placement, this message
from myself to myself:
you will learn
to become more efficient
, that's
what
