a purge the size of my arm

after what felt like weeks of nothing


capacity: maximum

I notice it is getting harder to sit still


the more that I wise up, I am surrounded by teachers 

my right shoulder blade clicks uncontrollably


sitting at the computer

drowning in the maze of my intestines 


the activities I can complete without motion



laying on my stomach with two fists under my chin

ankles splayed


sitting on a cushion listening to Adam

he says make a toothy hiss on the exhale


reading Anne Carson’s notes on the Greek word,

Kalchainein, to search for the purple fish


the flesh for dark dye in antiquity

I am waiting with my spear


to catch something swimming by, anything

with all of this shit inside of me I have not been able to write even a note


the translation evolved, growing dark in mood,

brooding deeply over some piece of news


to dye your words red-purple

this morning I froze, the flicker of a shape in the shadow


of my sleep, finally

I dove, burgundy blood hissing in the water


*Float, Anne Carson