Calisthenics, Week 1

Foundations: Exercises
Expansion/contraction modes

The bitter split between the crack of a rotting apple and the justice of a blinded alley in the early year does not alter your countenance, the thin break of grass under your feet. The tip of your fingers, the shotgun shells or leavings of the sea. No one could tell other than you. How does the honey bee’s steady faith beat against the stain glass window? We never knew when we passed that same abandoned church each day, always aware of the train’s throb as we walked those abandoned tracks, those same tracks leading our adolescence further apart. The bottle caps we used to flip across the interstate where you always wondered which 62 Buick had carried your father away before you were born, wondering how the dinner table was bare of silently reading the New York Times to your mother: the world of stock exchanges and the War. What clings to our cyclical breathe so sweet yet so distant as the language of ever was no time at all for us.