is sealed off from the rest of the world, improbable structure of our making. Do we remember bricking it up? No exit strategy. Our flat is a bike-chain rippling off its spokes. Walls crackle, books fall. We are windowless, hermetic, a column urging itself into smog. Our repetitions are invidious. Everybody fears this card.
_____The flat upstairs is leaking again: my neighbours’ excesses sog through. Such porous boundaries: everyone’s shit always getting in.
_____Only the shakiest of foundations crumble. Most trees survive a hurricane. Shake your partner & see what falls out: probably nothing much until you really haul them upside down.
_____Cast out your hair & wait to see who climbs it. Or as the tower dismantles itself, against ever-encroaching winds, use your curls to rescue yourself.
_____Put on your mask before helping others.