Exchange Values

Exchange Value #1; 17 September 2010

[the moment where

the evidence is]

this catapult stress entry-point as stitch, as flutter

heartbeat and fingerprinting fiasco

as handle

as conductor

as pivot

as machine

as line

as such I brackets the length of corridor, a

written conversation

transcribed —

— for spatialisation

to braid interloper sun into silhouettes, a graphic language or

bid for some share of these

[neon geometries] the joint design loosening

I attends the grace instruction

action/beforemath facing down the document aftermath

to trace any intersection of mark, mobility

or passable other

however fragile letting flutter-flutter

to give [record] to take

Exchange Value #2; 24 September 2010

[...] You see me there [...]

[...] It’s that abstract [...]

+ Rachel Zolf, ‘Poem 35 – Learning machines’

I say [...] and we assess our difference:

stiffen with divisions and the prompt

to concede the stereotype: now we are ticks

and ticks of boxes: now not: we are awkward

humor turned currency: ransom: or code

for the labels we shy: in this classroom

owning each projection troubles it.

It(‘)s ease. It(‘)s lack of exchange.

EXCHANGE VALUE #3; 01 October 2010

+ With thanks to Emma Cocker and Anonymous

What gaps in a language worried by love —

or like

zones of conversation.

I body their truth and causal

exchanges of naïveté —

the swagger-hip, swagger-hip.

Censorship is a technique of remembrance.

Scratchings on wood brittle

our felt betweens.

This is a strategy.

And, a heap of negotiation, I kiss you.

The absence of text is a question of position.

A slick of sweat behind my knees:

unstable truths and ethical possession.

Cost is the backbone of each speech-act.

Social assemblage.

You exit left, vanished, a relationship

neither to history nor without it.

Object action object

I am against a chair and still in it.

Ragged edges and gloss.

Repeat, repeat

I am at a loss for what’s left to describe.

The draft goes like caution and

the marks are doors

where the language stuck us. I push

this heart through what’s left.

Read Rachel Zolf's response poems at The Tolerance Project blog: thetoleranceproject.blogspot.com