Said the Gramophone

Ambition And Cure

Clues - "Perfect Fit"

Through all the cavities and holes and recesses of your body, swimming through all the veins and spaces between your bones. Up up up through your body, up through your chest, your hollow stomach and drowsy lungs, up through your throat, up past your mouth, your friendly lazy nose, up past your sunken cheeks and missing your empty head and out through your gorgeous pent-up eyes.

Out onto the sidewalk and away.

Past the stores and neighbourhoods and locked-up cars. Winding through all the side streets and garbage-day streets and recycling-day streets. Past all the limping old people, the carriage-pushing rushing mothers, the busy suited sandwiched men, the bright morning light, and down into the town. Whooshing past sewer grates and gutters, cross-walks and all-day shoppers, and up the side of the tall office tower.

Now on the roofs, looking out on all the other roofs and all their from-ground lead-ups. Thoughtless, blind, to the effort it takes for the world to spin enough times to get to this state, the sheer wealth of instinct possessed by all the pieces working together, ignoring all that. Jumping, leaping now, from roof to roof to roof. Smoke from ventilation pipes, gravel from rooftop flooring, car alarms and shouts and sirens all from below. Recycling trucks, coughing, soft breathing all from below. Leaping, higher now, time between landings getting longer. Eventually, soon, cloud cover is broken, and suddenly in the jetstream and taken wherever whenever, completely in control and in new new new new places.

[available May 18th from Constellation]