Web Conjunctions: From "Vague Swimmers," by Heather Ramsdell

CONJUNCTIONS: A Web Exclusive
From Vague Swimmers
Heather Ramsdell



Thank you for saying pathos instead of pathetic, keeping us the same size as before. A picture choked down to a dot that stays. In staying suffers. In suffering is subject to brief instances of wakefulness inflicted as we go along.

Not to forget how to get back. Once here, before we move, again, but when I got the chance to say it, it was late.

Against hard effort answers slip from oblivion. Suddenly obvious falling glass before a catching gesture, close as clothes drawn tight against next breath, before the hand now, quickly dust, capable of being blown away to join the mass, the rest of the names accidentally removed during restoration.

Not to forget how to get back. Once in, to enter again as same or similar. Unscathed. Exactly as we were.




And wrapped his body in gauze so that it would be protected. Rubbed the gauze with camphor, fat and lime to warm preserve it, and let his foot stay out, including an additional arm, wrapped accidentally together omitting the mouth as the mouth would be useful for other things.

To agree to, or join in. Afraid to be discovered. Or replaced, or improved upon with half a ball. With half a head. One ear. Speech half in code attempt—depending on how we hold our head—to hear half of the story with that ear ignoring the rest with the others, sad to be so ineffectual and so otherwise eligible.

I will cut your days across, I will halve your hairs exactly, I would already split your head down the middle. Stay, stay, stay.





A sign above the exit lit up
telling us what to do if we had to ask questions
to point to clap and
laugh when the sign said
the words for these
we did.

It is possible to identify potential problems in this model but difficult to express them as sets that retain their meaning in the context of ordinary life.