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From On The Architecture || Leora Fridman


ON THE ARCHITECTURE
 
workmen come to find me
back behind the old retreat
 
where we spoof the clinging children
and toughen up their feet
 
to finesse their eco-records
make uniform their hands
 
to show them any body
sways as it descends
 
I direct kids pointing
to bring stress to their skin
 
there has been so much impact
of wires inside this grass
 
that more delicate nerve-ends
fasten belts and sin
 
in a land still so well built
mocking birds call from the fence
 
and we visit the drilling station
where feelings waddle on pelts
 
 
______________________
ON THE ARCHITECTURE
 
 
fortunately no one is
 
also happy for me, this
 
pretty lady on a cruise,
 
I have come to believe
 
this land grows bulk
 
 
I sailed out because I heard
 
we were thinning
 
as more sofas amass
 
more people withstand
 
 
I arrive as a savior of martyrs
 
as I age out
 
of deserving rest
 
I invite into the room my smallness
 
 
you may also return to me
 
unsympathetic to standing
 
you can know me as sat
 
you can know me as I had luck here
 
as I wasn’t so seemly
 
or the ways I axed
 
apropos
 
 
____________________
ON THE ARCHITECTURE
 
 
more people
are denying
 
what they know
about the tides
 
what buds
have a blind spot
 
what network
alerts the eyes
 
wired for framing
what cruelty we caught
 
is there a real remedy
or any people allied
 
not knowing so keeping
inspections on file
 
rifling through collapses
to make it worth your while
 
 
___________________
ON THE ARCHITECTURE
 
 
what goes tacky in the body
when drilling has a hand
 
 
in making everyone listen
to growth and being grand
 
 
when drilling has to call us
back from the sad motel
 
 
to stick us to our stories
if that makes an amend
 
 
tell us we are unwelcome
to believe we comprehend
 
 
demands we end the wilting
demands we hold up our end
 
 
down again with the supple
if laughter has a gland
 
 
what goes quite that tacky
when we sag back to land
 
 
____________________ 
ON THE ARCHITECTURE
 
 
I can feel us folding
trading matters-of-fact
 
 
I have come to waddle
into an unsure act
 
 
what else was riding with us
when we went market-based
 
 
 
who was bringing the worthwhile
when we delivered rest
 
 
 
 
everyone was waiting
to have a guarantee
 
 
 
was anticipating adapting
to wires over the sea
 
 
___________________________________________________________
Leora Fridman is a writer, translator and educator living in Massachusetts. Her chapbook Precious Coast is forthcoming from H_NGM_N Books, and her chapbook of translations of Eduardo Milán is available from Toad Press. She is an MFA candidate at the UMass Amherst Program for Poets and Writers where she is Assistant Director of the Juniper Institute and co-curates the jubilat/Jones Reading Series.