Luisa Giugliano, p.5


I saw you, like other people, vary in your response to pain.
I saw you tumble on a plush carpet with symptoms of illness and lethargy.
I saw you in the concrete tubes of a jungle gymnasium, looking like
     a grown man.

Building a crude body out of chestnut meat and cinnamon.

You balled up and tumbled down a wet sod hill. I pushed you into the window,
     fast enough to be unmarred.

If the mere act of being influenced is invisible, so how did I see that?

The nearness of commodity, the selling of words to industrial countries.