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A try at untangling a twist 

Fumbling fingers stumble into a knot, unwanted, they had been looking for. She puckers cheeks, pucks up her lips, & plucks at the stuck tight knot, of shoelace, tied around a laundry bag; uncrumples, unfurrows, unfolds, the rumpled parts of different clothes; why she all bunched? What you plicated for? Why you so ruffled? Maybe deflate yrself? C prostrates herself onto the tiles of Laundromat, pushing before her, stretching cloth of her jumper & her skirt. C presses her belly concave into the roundness of a streetlamp post, she planes down grass smooth, leaves an impression of her body trunk pressed into the grass. Tucks, gets up, turns, tucks shirt & skirt, pulls bowtie straight; pulls at a wrinkle in her shirt, flattens a fold of belly (which gathers back of course into some pleats, following immediate on stroke of hand); C plasters with her forehead, a sticker back, flat onto a window, of a tram (sticker depicts forbidden headphones); C picks from a curb a squashed umbrella & straightens best she can its metal ribs into even, parallels (some somewhat remain bent, but mostly the thing looks). C collapses her newfound parapluie back in, shatters with this umbra out the sun, pointing the ferrule to 01 of the clock; as well she, maneuvers, her left hand right up the crook handle, clicks with her thumb the bottom spring, slows down the runner’s sliding up the tube, by slightly following or leading, alongside with her thumb & index finger. Thus-how inflates umbrella, stretches its skin across its ribs & taut, rolls back & forth the tube between her hands, as if a child, or magic trick. Rolls back & forth & points the thing a satellite, at roughly 9 o’clock, tracing from centre to perimeter, of a solitary cauliflower cloud, flattening its fluff towards the centre & its edges, stretching its thickness, spreading the form flat across the depthless sky; transforms the Cumulus cloud into a Stratus cloud, & planes it such that the sky complete is covered; both rubbing out & birthing again the sun, as faded, sharp-edged tinny, lunar disc.

A try at tying knots

 Fumbling fingers stumble into knot quite knot of not quite lace to hold a shoe, over and certain, overexerting, tries with the smilies, seemingly subdued inner monkey, good with the control; C stammers her voice out of total control, out of knots with her throat, globes of smooth but hard globus, stuck in her throat, painless needles pinned in her shoulders, C manages to say hello; hello to morning occasions shaped as people, or people inhabiting their slice of day; hello to baker, dog with leash, & baby pram. More than much of the hello is less likely, since she is sentenced to no more than phrase, parts of sentence parsed & parceled with ellipses, & irregular pace. C bends again to do her lace up, trips over her thoughts, her raucous silent head. A springy, Technicolor girl flashes into appearance from behind & lightning sudden bows Cs tie; as well, in spirals, runs away, before this bowtie, knotted, gnarled, bobs back down onto Cs breast; C weaves her swarm of body through a braid of traffic, ligament, a whorl of whirls of wires electrical; beside a helix of step stairways, a pile of metal spines entangled & curves of faucets. C straightens best her tie, represents herself in office form. Then bandying her way back home, a fiercely gathered multitude of sun knots up C’s eyes, messy blobs of stung perplex. The sun that gathers in her eyes, a C who, spirals complex, incandescent gnarl, kit & caboodle, twirl & twist. C vinculum, at home flocks all parts to herself, into & further beyond then snapping rubber band elastic back, kicks off her slacks, backs into sofa, spirals into bouquet of tangle, entanglement of kinky ligaments

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