chapbook · stitched, brown paper · pamphlet shelf
eighteen poems, all written in a house the poet did not finish
building. plaster on three walls; the fourth left as
brickwork for the duration.
the poems address that fourth wall directly. the poet writes
to it as one writes to a long absence — patient, without
reproach.
the second sequence concerns rooms the poet did not get to:
the corridor never tiled, the small
pantry never put in. she lists them. she addresses them. she
thanks them, in the last poem, for not being finished, for
remaining the kind of rooms a poem can still enter and rearrange.
the book is twenty-four pages, stitched at the spine in linen
thread. an errata slip, tipped in,
reads only: every poem is wrong on purpose; please correct
it as you read. the slip is signed. the same press
printed essays in dim light
and the small chapbook on ritual
objects.
marginalia · pencil, between two poems she made me wait three years for the kitchen. i made her wait two for the answer. we counted, in the end, even.