women need words like brains ride bicycles

the haunt of knowledge
is an echo,
a stain of blood
clinging and dried
to the top soil
at the tip
of the mind
the top of
tongue

i never edit
you tend to always revise

either way
your history never matches mine

you remember words i wipe out
white-wash out of memory
before your time
begins to write mine

the feeling of information
differs between each syllable
each context
expression close to comfort
yet
every failed rhyme
echoes a regret

digital can’t touch
analog cannot feel
yet
a callous on my finger
imprints a record
a mark that says

we are trying


Pedagogy (The Feeling of Information), 2005
Kathryn Cornelius
T160 mobile phone image

alameda

alameda

bordered by trees
fenced in by promises
obligations trace pathways
into histories plotted on trajectories
not yet made
not yet traversed
virgin territory
gapping need
you manifested destiny
(or so I thought)

really, you took
transverse lines into your army
webbed together
lying to make belief
that our past was true
crosshatched communications
as your cover

you were always finishing my lines for me
constructing parallelograms
from sentences I was immediately condemned
to live.
to inhabit.
(sentience
out of habit.)

habitually
wearing you on my sleeve
as you wore on my
down-trodden mind
making pathways
of the Less Traveled
others occupied other
little spaces of my gray matter: you fought them out
evicted

for your entertainment
for your pleasure
by your hand
for public display

grounds for baiting
shaded ill intent
promised
to the kill

it's a nice day

for a white wedding


it's a nice day
to
start again

large connected blocks and bricks

piled in an aleatory configuration
...wire twisted during broken beer strings...
beef marinated in Thai herbs, grilled and
served in plastic

a meat market outside the window/hanging
from puppet strings/special order
made-to-deliver
a To-Go order

Carry It Out

Out and up
Over seventh floor balconies
and twelfth floor prison bars

...
an evening left to chance
spent within cold bricks
painted white to form walls

an open sky
saturated purple
untouchable
from below the rectangle-framed skylight

it's so hard to say good bye...

...to yesterday...(sing it, boys II men).

well quiet spaces are hard to find in the middle of construction sites, especially within the confines of adjusted time (and it's all in your head).


on the lap now: The Laws of Cool: Knowledge Work and the Culture of Information by Alan Liu
on the edge now: whether or not the writing will continue...

good bye

i am leaving the world to re-train my brain's focus on academic writing. no fun for a while.

silence. tapping of keys. only my head.

my last show (for now, for a few months): Picture Window in Baltimore opening Feb. 12th.

Alas, I won't be there as I will be working on Christo's Gates installation that week.

i hope to emerge again, in little bubbles popping up to the surface from the depths...perhaps. like blowing milk bubbles in chocolate milk. hand me a straw. i'm diving in.