Is This the Line?

by Dan Raphael

a line between north and south, between ours and theirs
underwear over outwear–where goes the skin-—
bone sweat, cosmetic blood, not thinking how heavy what I’m lifting is
playing checkers without a board, rolling invisible dice

I go where I haven’t been for 20 years and look like then
walking into a store that’s no longer what it was
if I waited for someone else to go in first I’d still be waiting

people so used to walking dogs they pause every 10 feet
even when the dog’s not there; people talking while walking alone
someone’s reflection that lingers in the window after the person’s gone
then has to hustle to catch up; an occasional stray image
not from a window but from someone remembering this comer
or planning to be here later

we know teleportation will never happen but keep imagining it
though what better time to be modified than when you’re broken down
into transmittable particles to a place made of those same particles—
physics won’t negotiate but can be deceived

what’s heart got to do with it
the last thing one remembers is sperm and egg
seeing them for the first time
what seems like accident, a deliberate accident
looks like art from the inside, sounds like the story I’d tell
if I‘d been there, getting out of the way just in time
pointing at a bottle I can’t read and saying “some of that”
knowing a door is coming for me