# Black Ice Online


On the steel girders "in our silver hats" I walk. What holds this up? My mother is a fish.

(My mother is an official term, voided void into which.) On the tape you'd say he was trying to get up. Flight in that language the same as theft. I have legs or language (I gave up my voice: she gave up her voice). "My mother is…"--O, yes, yes of course. My mother is a blank space.

Scratched face from / film ragged white to disclose: no depth. No death. Mask. Writing writes it. I collapsed. Don't look. Back. Locked? Blocked? Late where you (focus). (Or intensifying: a term applied to various modes of giving strength or increased opacity to the deposit forming the…picture….) 

"I wonder if one person…is / thinking of me…." "And so Cathy married a rich man for the purposes of entering society. As multitudes of women have done before her."

The seas are crowded with fish. We were held up by traffic.