Con Messinger

IN THINKING OF THE ROOM I THINK OF YOU AND THAT’S AS FAIR A PLACE TO START AS ANY
 
 
rope or some tiny elevator covered
exactly in packing sheets – so that
you would not recognize it gesturing or moving upwards
to you – then the object’s obscured – you / i then
wander upward through some series of images of
tracks in rows ‘trains’ and us two being carried and
it’s reeling, not falling but going upward –
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
      
   

 
 
i remember it differently now – not having escaped
but rather going up with her.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
      
 
 
now this is different – more stopping – no movement as if
everything slid down – moves to the side – or
ends to that side. a terminal not a body of play
that’s it. not a backyard.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
      
  
 
two equal parallel structures – waiting for some
folding – that’s it someone says it – over it
finding the rising action – the blue wave that
goes over – not a green streak. it’s about free time –
 
 
 
 
some waiting goes on forever –

some call it borrowing –
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
      
 
 
 
i think i loved you. i wouldn’t call that fading
pink exactly – more movement a ‘ground swell’
that’s an overture, she walks behind the plexiglass
then the play opens and she almost falls out of her seat
and who could forgive her green eyes locked in
snow – then we do some walking
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
      
  
 
 
those were the notes you sent me
on performing time. so that
to think everything’s been performed already implies a
lack – of person – or patterning
you then create the wrong pattern – that you is unfortunate.
to disintegrate implies a reduction
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
      
  
 
 
or taking things without something in
your stomach – plain like that like
what you would call it. fair – for
example. now my father is in line in
massachusetts. an exuberant lesbian
cook hits on me. we walk a whole
half hour – my mother takes up biking