from 2106

Michael Rerick

Our bridge an incorporated conduit, suits overseas to contract. On a street in an oversea
language with underground cars and cables thrumming through the feet, up and out to
overhead wire strum tuned to frequencies of all possible “hello” and “goodbye.” (Report:
Business of business dissolves distinctions of “you” with business.) Considers the looped
asymmetry of the periplus opposed to the aerial. (Report: Built like a large city, inhabited
like any large city.) The eyes rise with noise and step with each building roof and metal
on top of each roof—the erased, redrawn, erased, and redrawn horizon—until the jagged
whole blots where roofs disappear to the sky our bridge came from. Walks now—a vague
periplus—but when flying searched—in the aerial—for the familiar in the city pattern,
wanted the familiar, cars, to become distinct, drivers to come out and be distinct. Now
our bridge is distinct in the ground perspective. But to fly, nothing steps out and grows
distinct. Our bridge adjusts inner knobs and navigates streets with no street signs along
white and red trimmed walls.
[fear (Report: cultural abject) thrilling … no words are words … the stranger crowd
makes a like-me, suspicious, and we don’t talk … mystics say bliss, say unknowing—the
body expands when threatened … (Report: puff, flush) … science to drop here so
suddenly and science to cram in a train? pummel our eyes with our eyes and surprised
when—look, away … tisk tisk, must eat more to spring on surprises, confront the
crosswalks, make old new landmarks]
The opaque glass tower stop—to look out, hint looking in—glints copper—a trick to look
metal. Our bridge stands before the concrete foundation and revolving door with brief
case full of papers penned to negotiable consequences, the copper glint full of officious
bright tables, bright woods and agreements over certifiable documents waiting to be
certified. Enters. Hours in air conditioning over negotiation coffee—with side liquors—
agreements move well toward pens. The commerce contract moves toward the final
carbon-print, or, our bridge thinks, toward the particulars of fine print. In silences
between words some man and some woman’s name pressures square air inches between
extended embossed 3.5” X 2” card stock. Our bridge takes calculated drifts. To
noticeably act distracted, notice the lift and pleat of his slacks, the fold, tuck, and seam of
her skirt and pantomime aroused passions for pheromones. Before signatures pen, the
next negotiation thought waits iron and happy in the ribs.