Operation
Her joints relax, breathing out their sockets into the stillness of air surrounding. A procedure being implemented, we gravitate to its fulfillment through the work of our own hands, autumn too distant for the waiting. Hierarchies write themselves into the history books temporarily dominating the scene, the iron curtain falling where it may, lockjaw and the profusion of waters.
A movement the sight of which releases tactile experience, an enthusiastic review supplementing your perception with extra-sensory accompaniment and plastic coinage, dense with insomnia a vibrato a breeze.
You write alone, surrounded by cellophane angels singing falsetto in the next moment a eunuch with a perfect pitch directing your arm through loopholes in the writing, an America of perfect redundancy and undivided attention to the flag of ritual opportunities. Seizing delay in hindsight an apple with an impermanent core and a Siamese gypsy from the 50’s with a penchant for frotteurism EXHIBIT A cleft open like a rock rocking under grandma and Elvis sang those lyrics too.
Grappling with hard questions, your patience wears thin but so do your arteries alleviate such cyclic fortitude and wrap-around charm all but a hindrance.
Jordan Lofton is a high school student living on the Oregon Coast, where he explores both the boundaries and foundations of language itself, setting a platform for future generations to build upon (or deconstruct, blow up, dance upon, or doodle on with markers, he doesn’t really care).
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