CONJUNCTIONS: A Web Exclusive
Elizabeth Robinson
They were unknown hinges. And
you thought
you could speak in them. Absurd that a dead tree
could speak in poetics. Dead trees.
So you needed a human to come and say the words for you. In increments
the way a child stumbles through a script written in an adult’s
hand. The way
the hinges were sockets, but possibly
not joints, possibly not articulated.