I Walked in the House
I walked in the house
on the flat aspect of the wood
I took rectangular instruction of the wood
when I walked I turned at the wall
and on the flat I moved steadily
unimpeded, not tumbling, climbing or short of breath.
I walked in ease on the flat.
Something electric charged into our account
and zinged out of it, pre-instructed
and paid for the house. I felt
house on my heel then instep and toe.
I had a bad foot and I paid
to get it fixed so I could walk here.
I paid for the house and I paid for the
foot that touches it. I paid to be
directed rectangularly and down a hall.
I curved my body to direct
my waste through a hole. I am helped
and paying for it.
all of me exchanged,
housing exchange.
I saw us standing
up in the world.
And we sank into
exchange
vibrating transparency
like a sea nettle
afloat in the night sea
the edges of the sea-veil
tensed slapping above, visible
when the wind crevassed and doilied
If there is a ceiling to exchange
and above it sky
I don’t can’t see it and I don’t know why
I want it
above my house which is crystalline gel edges
because the whole world’s disappeared
viewed as exchange
I broke my arm and the window
integrally to exchange.
I paid someone to fix me and improve
the window, triple-glazing it, and warmer
I rebounded knit in knit up.
All parties to the event’s aftermath
were paid.
Suppose I did not go in pain
to hospital, did not visit and revisit
for x-rays, left the window smashed
and sat here by it,
stuck up
among the crystalline
and cold.
I was painful and determined
not to play, and with the other unemployed
weighed —
the ghostship
sagged with holes.
—So you want to be a thing outside exchange?
Drain out the dying bath
see what color you are?
The coin changed hands
identical with a will
to transact.
Copyright Credit: Catherine Wagner, “I walked in the house” from Macular Hole, published by Fence Books. Copyright © 2004 by Catherine Wagner. Reprinted by permission of Catherine Wagner.
Source: Macular Hole (Fence Books, 2004)