Bodies Correlating Through Some Medium
Heather Ramsdell & Garrett Kalleberg

		"fraying at the seat." So. Is this tear tragic?—it has no parts. It has no parts—
We cannot redeem them as they are not ours to redeem, of course I know and this fact is not thinkable, actually, it is unthinkable
		—go on.
to go on only to diverge at missing the point exactly, and this we are forced to face, in some, I suspect for balance, foreseeable sprouting in the brittle landscape, as in the story when, you told me it once, I barely remember it, what was it you'd lost?
		I have lost
It?
		my lens. There was a bird
Cracked?
		for some time pecking
The lens and—?
		out, or trying to, I'm
the lens the lens
		thinking now, everything
"thing." (disgusted) Your body was always pain.
		"was"
A blur, without center, without diagram.
		blurred. There was a bird
Cluck.
		There was a bird peck....
Cluck!
		(2 second pause) Do you ever regret—
Ourselves?
		—desire?
Ah yes, ourselves. Do you remember?—seated across that little table, we talked do you remember?
		Exactly. As if scorched or something, touched, burnt, by something.
Like two people sitting at a table with no particular plan in mind would sit, wanting only to relieve themselves of their bodies,
		So they say,
as with the pilgrims working away, sweeping and stacking, making piles and shelves, and buttons.
		"Do the work."
More buttons.
		"Divest and suffer thyself."
More holes could not be avoided.
		Followed with deliverance. As in a timely
As in that day I mentioned, it was so warm, everybody had finally come outside again, intending this time to stay, to stretch their gorgeous legs and hurl their beauty past the
		vacuum?
fences at us.
		Lost as in a hole (3 second pause) a hole a (pause) "hole," h-o-l-e...
We cannot redeem them as they are not ours to redeem, though what has been done is unseemly and, this fact is not unpopular. Not without some virtue at the least, the fact before perspective, a certain "fullness and flow," as if the scene were not already full enough, and elegant, in the practical sense. As if everything could fall into place. As if everything could fall into place. (pause) It was so warm. (pause) All the people had finally come outside again, intending to stay this time,
		...like a hole a
to stretch their gorgeous legs and fling their beauty past the fence,
		cave a
such order took long hard effort enough to define, it was impossible to conceive of escape; each
		mouth or big
object from its boundary, each tableau from the daunting moral, axiom, axis, or glimpse. Agree! It was glittery sidewalk. It was buildings. The sky.
		hole Ican't close my jaw carbon dioxide isescaping. Help
Bird, sky, single tree against the order of the streets, numerical but dotted with random chirps, how
		(3 second pause) help help
friendly, how crisp. Look quickly, for the pattern is breaking in twos,
		help help help help
geometrically—for lack of a more modern term call it
"sad" and "good," call it "no" and "good." Later the picture can always be altered, embellished. Inevitably the whole scene will fill with itself, there will be no space left to move.		(counts on fingers) hlp hlp hlp hlp hlp hlp hlp hlp. Hlp—hlp—hlp—hlp—hlp—hlp— hlp—hlp. Hlp—hlp—hlp—hlp—hlp—hlp— hlp—hlp.
(6 second pause) There must be a point,—not distance, which is increase,—what about our broken window for instance. Later the picture can always be fixed in the machine, reduced, "cleaned up," stacked straight along the smooth edge of the table.
		Something is touching the edge of my sleeve.
You know, we're
		touching?
bound, to run out of things to talk about, at some point, certainly, we'll run out of things. We'll just run out. Run. Thing.
		What do you want?
Everyone knows how it ends, they cannot bring themselves to leave. (3 second pause)
No matter, the event may later be adorned in the machine, mixed in with the art, engorged with a gravity we will design then fall by urgent curve for want of some, something, some		No matter.
		Thing.
certainty, in the mild sense. Small enough to hold in the cup of a hand. A stone, or a use for happiness. As long as it stays.
		Yet still,—
"Still," I should say.