I was reading Frank Stanford and dreaming
about dreaming. For me, there was, finally, not much
to lose beyond what there was to lose: continuum; thought
itself; grey-green sky giving way to a greyer, greener sky;
Georgia as a place you’d been
taken once when too young to remember; Georgics, as a form
for violence to inhabit. For about a year, I lived in a sixth-
floor apartment. For half a year, I did not buy curtains.
The view out my window, the idea of loss. So many rooftop
patios, the idea of loss. The physical elevation above
the sound from the street, the loss of an idea. A formal, essayic
senselessness. Noise without content, content as habit, things as merely themselves. For about a
year, for less, for precisely ten and a half
months. Time, as a place you’d been taken to.
For me, there was, finally, the shape
of my tongue in my mouth, on the roof of my mouth, fricative, sibilant, and so forth. Shape after
long silence. Silence as shape. Air. Space. Fullness. Groundswell. You’d asked for a clarification.
You were reading Lucille Clifton
and dreaming about loss. You were,
simultaneously, arguing for the primacy of text
in the formation of the self. Text as toothpaste
tubes. Text on Tootsie Roll® wrappers. Text on the
recycling bin. You were reading the Georgics
and feeling disgusted. We were living in a one story house
in a town of eight hundred. Golden eagles
landed in the fields after calves dropped
and ate the afterbirth. I had asked for an explanation. A grey-green sky giving way to white,
then grey, sans green. Georgia, as a place far away. The Georgia
of sixth floor apartments. The Georgia of towns of eight hundred.
Continuity. Recursion. A loop, when drawn,
feels some iota of pleasure when it crosses itself, it must, a loop for its own sake. The primacy
of closure. Loss just because. Clarification
as indifference. Solid ground giving way as in a dream, but it’s not a dream, it’s not. Toothpaste.
Stoplight. Ball of twine.
PETER SZILAGYI is a winemaker and poet based in Washington, DC. Their work has recently appeared in The Adroit Journal ; Lana Turner ; The Florida Review ; and more.
The art that appears alongside this piece is “narcissus” by GRETA KOSHENINA.