On bridges that don’t connect
ledges and the context of the impractical
DUET: Chantael Duke and Ariana Bird
Twisting the endless undoable wind
Stand solitary to the voices, the writings that graffiti
An unreachable suspension
the lift of gravity that rises like flapping wings to crumple
Has this unrolling, revived an earthly destination?
Water, residue while being suspended, trying to find contradiction
A dangle heavy into sadness.
My weight is that of a drop of dew.
I am wet and on wood my image remains.
A pendulum wavering, not that there is an answer.
Ripe, real, revealed in this desolate land.
So far away to reach out to the air to that concrete conversation, reach toward and
in response the jaggedness the sharpness
this traverse the angels of architecture I overcome
my reach will expand
the path is marked, it is my time passing. Above me it is faster.
Over the edge, the ledge. Seek precarious contrast and that together. Looking up it’s no sky.
A small ripple does not reflect back
Lost moments covered over by blankets of crevices
of ropes of tenuous laps.
The tension turns me towards the sky.
Open the gate, feel that part that opens up, quickly close, gradually close
an opening that closes, a closing that opens, a take of the distant ebb and flow
a contrast with all that continuity
Simply sit this chair a conduit, it carries the wires & vibrations.
I argue. I leave it alone. I reason it to another fanlike edge.
I am a mixture of dust and brick.
Pulled to cover, reaching ground.
Red woman received.
There it is ready for a test of strength, take a chance the leapings all resonating at once and a spill forth carrying all over the edge, suspending just above the air or is that the dusty ground? There is no ground it attempts to settle but in playful regard balances keep off-kilter and unsettling
This trajectory of facing it no matter that it might crack open
Once I was quietly below, there a shadow lurks.
Falling under, falling off. Close.
Constructed yet dizzying, straight but spinning, enormous rectangular landscape that evokes spinning dizzying that evokes
not a chance of stillness. Take a relief, look underneath, play the realm of the crashes, and yank and cantilever safety. Slide low unable to reach an unattainable
Drape the vast.
Circle the hill above
A gap please hold my earbones like they were jewels. I lay flat on this danger
I give up, I look up…here I will surrender.
This I understand you will see…
How do I hold myself up?
Here comes the gradual vanish
I am no ghost
two then one then two
repeating the in the out the in the out to get out of balance
to achieve balance
A slanted slope…I follow you.
Momentous and miniscule momentum.
The other side, the one we think we can get to. A personal battle of strength and turn. Small animals, squirrels and foxes leap to pounce but then sit daintily.
Quiet chaos before the fracturing, cracking, broken and leaping. On the verge
It keeps asking for the pinnacle and at the edge it barely holds. The collapse is as fragile as glass in a pocket.
Have I been a cartographer?
Taking the threads to the air, this drifts as it might leave me
The width of the column begins at my spine.
Structures of human size, of enormous landscape holding the ground. Suspend and play a trick, small or huge? Leave toward an impossible suspension, to a gravity trick and let it hold the past.
Contaminated there is no ugly with this heart of mine.
On this dangerous edge I fly.
Someone has been here before me – they pissed, they cursed, they roared their vulgar scribe.
Outside of the outside.
Here what is solid will disintegrate, already it is unattainable.
The ground is always there.
This wall, this edge, towards car – no, I turn back.
Yes, this is danger.
hearing, peering, reaching, dangling
structure you use to support
support you copy
the eyes reach maximum aperture back to my hand
from the south end, I know the vastness that is this space
a structure I stand, a structure of immensity I fit below, a human I touch.
Has this cantilever allowed me to receive?
I cast aside my shadow and I hold the bent part up to the sun and it is loud
Perching like a lasting view
the shrinking & expanding of a telescope
Hold it inside so the enormity can all be so huge and within a small tenderness
A distance, an above, a below….
What balance? How to slip?
Light beam, edge.
On the precipice of…
Exposed light crack.
Arching, rotating slowly, robotic, isolating.
Moments to settle.
You are continuous.
Beauty below concrete. The softness of beauty.
I walk with you. I feel safe under the silky train of your dress…
Arch to rotate, gradual a small turning an axis of settling
then alone in all the huge
She holds that gap. She rides like air the sound of fast machines.
Exposes an unbridgeable human.
A forest, a vast disguise of air
leaps to sinkings. Listen to that broken realm,
it’s whispers, underneath the Loud
compressed by sound into a quiet landing.
It is enough to trace the traffic with my ears, a gesture.
My music is your destination – a traveled pattern.
As I lay here still, I float up – exposed sky above.
The still transformation into another still….
We do not stop it. She holds the delicate frond within her head and remains a stronghold. Silence and stillness despite the gap. She prevents the freeway trample.
Initiated by traffic, tracing the traffic
the look upwards holding it all, a stillness, not rain but sound spilling down