9 months ago

Equations: 2018/2nd Edition (Dialectic Form)

This is the second edition of Equations by Adam Fieled (2018), originally released as a Blue & Yellow Dog print book in 2011, and employing "Dialectic Form."

#50 Jade keeps pulling

#50 Jade keeps pulling surprises. I‟m stunned because she does this with a certain amount of levity, as though anything that startles goes up. The drugs she ingests take her to a realm of crystallized perfection, in which she cuts through open spaces like a human blade. Because I am willing to follow her, she initiates me into the mysteries of this realm. I find that my edge is blunted, because in many ways it is a false edge— artificially produced, unstable, past any form of measurement. Nevertheless, when we meet in the middle our edges coalesce. Alright, so this is artificial, she says; what and who gets to define the natural? Can you even tell me what the natural is? I admit that I can‟t, and this admission transpires at a moment of maximum vulnerability for both of us. Are we razors or mirrors? Jade inhabits a world of hollow forms, which she hovers above— my role in her life is to contradict her thesis, that we might create a dialectic. As we move towards synthesis, Jade places one of her hands on my face, puts her forehead to mine. She knows that there is a sting in her hollowness for me, who would prefer to see fullness. But we go on like this for hours without knowing what or who we are. The depth of this place eats into my eyes, but (as Jade is learning) I enjoy being eaten— chewed, swallowed, digested. 58

#51 I walk around my apartment, bottoming out. I‟m not hungry enough to eat, too tired to sleep. Because right now I‟m seeing through things, I know that Jade‟s entry into my life isn‟t such a big deal. She actively courts states of impermanence; everything she does is calculated not to last. All her relationships are posited along an axis of attraction/repulsion. But I have inherited enough of her hollowness that right now it doesn‟t matter. I gaze out the window at the SEPTA trains, wires, 30th Street Station off in the distance; I remember the eternal charm of action, movement, dynamism. When you get in a train, you transcend an entire life you leave behind. Yet every human life has to balance stasis and movement. It‟s something Trish never mastered— how to move and not move simultaneously. Trish demands absolutes— absolute movements, absolute stillness. I have learned that the only absolute in the universe is existence itself— something will always exist. I don‟t pretend to know how, or what, or why. I‟ve left all the shot-glasses out; Jade forgot her cigarettes, American Spirits. I fish one out of her pack and light it. 59

Answered Prayers and Willard Preachers (2018 edition/2nd edition)