by Amy Letter
paths forking project ongoing media mixed structure branching often recursive boundaries untimed limits unspaced rules optional rules followed Only 3
04. Archive for paralinear Access
05. Random to jump from branch to branch
The muscles of the back
flow like a river of ribbon, and
when I bend and when I
gasp, nothing’s snapped,
just wrapped into a knot
spun round, enlarged, a fat
ball of yarn, competing to be
the largest wad in the world.
The fingers of your hand
wrap my own like an orgy
of lovers, wrap my own like
leaves long to wrap the flowers
that are their mothers. And when
you ask the triage nurse, again,
to find someone to help me,
when you steal her book and sit
in plain view reading from it
to me, when you spend two days
at a (dis)Comfort Inn near Kansas
City, Missouri: subsisting
from the snack machine, updating
my relatives, bored stiff as me
from watching TV… that is evidence of
your patience and your love.
And that is what brings ease, relief,
a smile to my lips – you,
my love, not the Demerol
that cheeky doctor gave me.
1. Spasm
2. Road Trip
3. Dr. Doctor
