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birds dot the horizon, choking 
on pieces of themselves 
in these spaces where she prefers 
paint: small, dark marks
how echos precede them, translate them

before any origin how dinosaurs walked sharp angles wet their lips on surfaces of buildings it is simplicity itself slow steps upon 
heavy steps one after the other after the ground gives way you are on the cusp of a question at its edge on the tip of your — so slips 
so quickly so degrade the code the solution we spoke of it when we spoke only yesterday we spoke only two years ago yesterday this 
is how everything does not change do you see how we are fed on electricity?  i am talking about leeches and i am talking about blood i am 
talking [about a direction in which information passes 'downhill'] what we made ourselves out to be: skin bones hands fingers dips 
and swells curves and arches postdiluvian topology pious machine counting counting counting methods already expended bars of 
soap cans of soda all consumed

Sixteen ways, life is sectioned
Fractioned, folded over, peeled
Apart: turning and splitting 
Bottled light innocent as an earthquake