dancing girl press, 2014
from READ IT BACK:
There’s a story. Density in architecture. The tight beams and porch rails running up and down Baltimore City streets. The rows inside the row houses. The stories stacked upon stories. The edging running up the stairs. The edging running down the walls. The draft of ice-blue paper embossed down the curve of the stairwell. The exposed rafter you’ll catch just around the basement corner. The former residents cracked into the bathroom tile. The moldings up along the rim of the room. The long under-scores of floorboards racing each other up the hall. The frame introducing the door to the oak wood shell to the impenetrable plaster wall. Drill it in. Side it back. Push the door with the stained glass window back into the void and pull it back out again so the room changes. Changes from lemon sunlight and insulated curtains, changes to marled green lead pulled tight to a saffron oblong swallow. The radiators hitch in their first hours up from silence. Out the window, what’s falling on the marble stairs could be snow. Out the window, what’s falling on the marble stairs could be ash.