from “memory box”
the dirty projectors progress in spirals
the tightness in between my shoulders
is a phantom ache for a limb i don’t have
i always keep one hand free for the things that are lost and moving
away
he wishes he could live in a full man suit
i don’t even try to wear my insides out
some things remain unrecognizable in order to be kept
it was always now never remotely then
your eyes became adjusted and you just don’t see things
the same way anymore
it’s one thing and then a million little things
you need this clean little groove
just to keep track
to find your footing
but some things are not just a matter of condition or circumstance
you can only sense them when you’re there
planes land carefully in the distance
the battery in your leg meets the salt in my lungs
i look back on myself as someone other than myself
a plumb line to fashion the complexities
at least now you know what you didn’t know
that you are here despite your destination
that all you needed was a little rearranging
erica lewis is a fine arts publicist in San Francisco, where she curated the Canessa Gallery Reading Series. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in various journals, including: New American Writing, P-Queue, Little Red Leaves, Parthenon West Review, and With+Stand, among others. Books include camera obscura (BlazeVox Books) and the precipice of jupiter (Queue Books); both are collaborations with artist Mark Stephen Finein. A new chapbook is forthcoming from Ypolita Press in 2012.