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
The edges of the sea-veil
tensed slapping above, visible
when the wind crevassed and doilied, or the
light zagged on a teetering rim
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
ugly 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?
One can't breathe outside exchange.
Coins are flat and have two sides
the world divides accordingly into questions and
bipolar chance. Do I love you?
The coin changed hands
identical with a will
to transact.