Digging in:
Everyone here takes Anthropology,
tries to recover the vividness lost
from their memories
instead of thrusting dirt from the future
where the bones of idle things
beg to be assembled, so that they
can animate…
This place, which always seems
so dead compared to the past:
time exhausted…
I am a tabula rasa, but only because
my etchings
are not graspable. You’re not illiterate;
I’m always moving…
