Emily Chase, Relative Bearing, 2016 (Artist Website)
Hand-cut paper in a pine box, LED lighting
I took him
to kindergarten
I walked him
to school
I let him walk while I watched from the window
and in that quiet chewed
a nest
___
My questions as yet
without residence
___
Marking me:
My body in spring
covered in hives
___
Brought to light
___
Whatever begins, begins with
demand—
___
In order to rest
must first be
in motion—
___
Thousands of miles
in an easterly
direction
A train and I
kept time
___
Between the radio’s silences
rain connected
the side of one state
to another
___
Because we are a river town
it is natural to start at the river
___
Mouth of my childhood
I walked through
___
The meadow
The cemetery
A tree farm
A middle school hall at the bell
(Here a girl,
ankles folded in)
___
Overheard: A drill
Make yourself as small
as possible
Protect your neck and throat
___
Overheard: Someone
counting
down
___
Boy in a hospital bed
Boy in a freckled field
___
I went where
the body
was found
___
Because I have
a son,
the day’s collection
in his pockets:
acorn, pink eraser,
leaf crumb
___
In the sparrow’s white eyering
An eyering
Of frost
In the frost-
Starred brush,
The bruise—
___
Where the field assumed
A shape
The searchers found
Their answer
___
Impressions of pebbles on the body
Humanteeth marks
on the body
___
(Whatever begins, begins with)
___
Buried
by proximity
time of death
coloring/ weight/ height/ age
coincidence
in the plot
next to
my brother
___
(In order to rest)
___
As my brother’s heart
collapsed
As he stepped onto the black drop-
cloth
covering—
nothing
Another boy
lay
in a field
As he fell and is
still