Go the other way down the street. Pass the police tape: bumblebee yellow warning signs that someone has died here and will probably die here again. There is a need to understand everything. You interrogate; you want to know. You need to be inside the knowledge of sequential existence. Not everything can be understood all at once.
I have interviewed my body and it tells me not to let men near it. Until I fall in love and need to deviate against the norm of maleness. I have interviewed my body and it has asked me not to deliver so many drugs to its system and it tells me not to wear wallet in back pocket because it effects the way I slouch and it asks me politely not to eat so fast or so much at one time. My body really wants me to become a vegetarian again. It also needs me to engage in sex less often or with less partners and it prefers when I am sad because because. I have interviewed my body and it does not like to wear bras, but it does like when I smother all evidence of what exists beyond beyond. My body and I are engaging in a treatment of silence.
Turn left and you will find an abandoned baseball cap advertising a team that has more players hitting steroids than home runs and if you had perfect vision, you might notice the blood splatter toward the rim. (Good thing your glasses are dirty and slathered in scratches). You ask the police officer what happened and he really can’t say but you push and you press until you hop back on bicycle and travel away from where you need to go because in life there are some detours that aren’t desired.
My body is expanding. It is getting closer to a home again and this is causing it to shake. It likes its wander. It likes the randomness of beds and bathtubs. It wants to be underground. It fears synchronized breathing and is terrorized by the skin that encases it. My body wants to understand all of this and there is that need and not everything can be. And not everything needs. And not all of this is understandable even now.