The feeling of being slow connected to the feeling of distance connected to the feeling of intolerance connected to the feeling of being incomplete connected to the feeling of speaking through language. The feeling of being kept alive by circumstance connected to the feeling of circumventing ugliness connected to the feeling of frozen purpose. The feeling of calling out the last sentence connected to the feeling of echoing over me connected to the feeling of a rush of departures connected to the feeling of passing people I can't look at. The feeling of truth connected to the feeling of happening through who is looking. The feeling of hollow opportunity connected to the feeling of unlimited capacity connected to the feeling of speechless apathy connected to the feeling of small detours connected to the feeling of turning sideways connected to the feeling of enormous space. The feeling of shrinking connected to the feeling of flying connected to the feeling of ripping out connected to the feeling of reaching in connected to the feeling of finding. The feeling of choking connected to the feeling of drowning connected to the feeling of sinking connected to the feeling of burning connected to the feeling of breathing in connected to the feeling of being washed away. The feeling of being gigantic connected to the feeling of being insignificant. The feeling of cutting open connected to the feeling of spilling out connected to the feeling of sucking in connected to the feeling of licking connected to the feeling of chewing connected to the feeling of scraping connected to the feeling of bleeding. The feeling of dying connected to the feeling of smiling connected to the feeling of killing. The feeling of sliding connected to the feeling of slipping under. The feeling of confusion connected to the feeling of being left out connected to the feeling of being kept from knowing. The feeling of losing connected to the feeling of forgetting. The feeling of being weighted down connected to the feeling of floating connected to the feeling of drifting. The feeling of separation connected to the feeling of tenderness. The feeling of seeing connected to the feeling of splitting connected to the feeling of grasping connected to the feeling of taking. The feeling of leaving connected to the feeling of falling connected to the feeling of catching connected to the feeling of being caught. The feeling of smashing connected to the feeling of crushing connected to the feeling of spurting connected to the feeling of running connected to the feeling of stealing connected to the feeling of being stolen from. The feeling of being built up piece by piece connected to the feeling of unwanted images connected to the feeling of erased thoughts. The feeling of blown out of proportion connected to the feeling of missing the point. The feeling of listening connected to the feeling of talking out loud connected to the feeling of biting my tongue. The feeling of success connected to the feeling of failure connected to the feeling of digging through connected to the feeling of delicate alliances. The feeling of swirling up connected to the feeling of decrying heaven sent objects connected to the feeling of destroying critical lessons learned connected to the feeling of kept disasters connected to the feeling of following wrecked hopes connected to the feeling of being buried alive. The feeling of looking over my shoulder connected to the feeling of slinking away connected to the feeling of pushing my luck. The feeling of living in a glass house connected to the feeling of a lawless aptitude for getting even. I look down into a whirling mass of fragments and walk straight ahead passing people in cars, passing people walking, they are speaking, whispering, shouting, sighing, driving, holding one another, separated, touching, not touching, nodding, watching, ignoring, hands clenched, jumping, laughing, waving, running, singing, and being silent, there are huge reckonings of flooded desires. I am not that person; I am the other one, a blank mood of torpor, a jealous feeling of emptiness, an explosion of good lucks.

I want to be kept from dissolving, from the fate of chemistry, from the last minute of changeability before changing into something else while disappearing through a fierce opening and that fierce opening closes as if I was coming up against an impenetrable barrier. I go around it but it reforms like a mass of dark lines converging, as if I was passing through an elongated landscape lit up at one end, as if a fiery explosion had occurred there which filled everything with a black shadowy vibration extending longer and longer until losing any sense of holding together. I keep breathing in short gulps of air and that air turns into a white liquid and spills out.

__

I don't have an introduction to my poem. Writing it was like breathing in and out, so there is an extended rhythm to it .