In class/ In life

I felt/ feel that we/ I were/ am only observational, that we/ I read texts/ sense events without understanding past the physical subject, and that there was therefore finitude in our studies/ my small experience. I read without direction, lost track of discussion, and felt in this last class that we were essentially in the same place as where we had started/ I leave the spaces between pleasant task and arduous moment and directed energy empty of any personal thought and realize too late that I am not inspired. In general, I think that there were few points where our experience of the class overlapped/ I affect others. I felt/ feel separate. My thoughtlessness recalled/ is the city.

What I desire

The painful, breathless, connective tissue I felt driving towards this college with Eamon.
Projects that move with me.
The independence of thought that does not distinguish between the pail of milky shop oil and the bible and obscene sex and killing or prostration and holding the door open and sanding or fruit or Discovery Channel.

Harper Keehn