Place­holder Di­vi­sion of La­bor Mul­ti­verse Ruin Value

The Iowa Review - - THE IOWA REVIEW - Christopher Kon­drich

I’ve placed this in­side the en­ve­lope I slipped be­neath the door to many years from now when I no longer co­in­cide with my­self, when I’ve for­got­ten what I’ve cho­sen not to re­mem­ber and I may or may not have wit­nessed what I’ve seen, when what I had been do­ing with­out re­al­iz­ing it was ag­ing the world, us­ing a trowel to ap­ply ag­ing, its thick putty fill­ing chinks in the sur­face, smear­ing them with beams of light ( see also: time) that chinks can also re­fer to, so that no room could pass through the lack of room left for me to age meant en­sur­ing that I not be present even in pres­ence,

that my con­stant eval­u­at­ing be a twine strung from be­ing to be­ing here (I would pull on the e and feel val at my palm be­fore the twine would fray and burst), I’ll open to where this has been hold­ing the page be­neath it, the real page with the real poem I was never able to write be­cause I thought it could be writ­ten, I’ll re­call how I had to al­low things to hap­pen be­fore they could, how my need to con­trol di­min­ished my ca­pac­ity to with­stand even the frailest it­er­a­tion of change, how I of­ten reached into the myr­iad of π ex­pect­ing to pull the same num­ber, the same lock of the door I’ll find this un­der keyed to wax­ing or wan­ing cres­cent.

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