This Isn't the Sort of Thing That Happens to Someone Like You
Page 34
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A single unbending line which encircles the day.
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When I was As a child I would spin around
with my eyes on the horizon trying to catch the place where
the line turned or bent but I never could
back
the mystery of the straight, encircling line.
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(All the) other lines find their way to the horizon sooner or later
back
High lines, (Years ago, playing in the
connecting lines: telegraph wires furrows while your father
railway tracks watched, you looked up +
canals saw a line of boats gliding
drains through the sky. The fear
rivers you felt, seeing those
boats above your head.)
Low lines,
boundary lines: ditches (No hedges or walls
roads between fields here,
paths only the ditches + roads.
Ditches to stop the sea
reclaiming what it owns.)
back
The lines of this place are sometimes washed out by floods.
Obliteration.
Water erasing the (Cornelius the Dutchman
manmade geometry digging his way through
restoring this place the 17th century.)