Work Suite<\/strong>
\nThings were a million times easier before it started
\nfollowing you to your day job. You\u2019ve learned to stop trying
\nto stop it; there\u2019s that weird panopticon thing and even if
\nyou pile obstacles in the front hallway and slip noiselessly
\nout the bathroom window, it always gets ahead of you.
\nLike you\u2019ve got a choice.<\/p>\nIt doesn\u2019t have a lot of hobbies \u2014 just metaphor, sleep,
\nmaking you miserable. Public transit makes it all sweaty
\nand graceless and plus it brings those lunch-sized cans
\nof tuna every day. Plastic sporks. It chews with its mouth
\nopen. That grin. You have to stand next to it all the time
\nand watch it refuse to cede its seat to pregnant women,
\nthe elderly, junior-high-school girls on crutches. Where
\nis it getting all of this tuna? you don\u2019t ask, ever. Its mystery
\nis essential, constant. You are never on time for anything.
\nIt chews louder. Everyone hates you.<\/p>\n
—<\/p>\n
It doesn\u2019t smoke but it does like to disconnect the carbon
\nmonoxide detector and drop the batteries in the dryer, hide
\nyour books in the freezer, replace your knee socks with
\nankle socks, repel your heart with its heart. You can\u2019t take it
\nout in public but it won\u2019t not come with you. You\u2019ve given
\nup making it mix CDs or lending it books you love; it just
\neats them, slowly, methodically, loudly, staring straight
\ninto your eyes. When you\u2019re not at home it is hard at work
\nsplitting the ground underneath your apartment \u2014 it thinks
\nyou don\u2019t know, it gets weird if you bring other people
\nhome, two weeks ago you found a saved search in your
\ncomputer\u2019s history \u2014 \u201cbuild own fault line how to.\u201d Your
\nfloor\u2019s growing a list, by degrees, and you\u2019re not sure if you
\nshould call your landlord or what so you don\u2019t, not just yet.
\nThings are not yours to question, is what you know it would
\nsay if you asked. If it wanted to leave it would leave you.
\nBut hang on, when it works though. This happens, when
\nyou work and it works, and then there is never a thing else.
\nLike, it makes you coffee before you\u2019re even out of bed
\nand doesn\u2019t text anyone else when you\u2019re telling it about
\nthe dream you had last night, does the dishes, opens up
\nall the windows and sunlight floods your stupid apartment
\nand things are right and so simple you can\u2019t believe either
\nof you ever let it be any way else. The world around you
\nfeels it too \u2014 when you step outside, bicycles, buses, every
\ndog is a bulldog and also in love with you, every person
\nyou pass on the street is gorgeous, forgiving and endlessly
\ntactful and has heard of your favourite bands, wants to
\noffer you something you didn\u2019t remember you wanted
\nuntil just now, today. This is how it is; when it\u2019s like this
\nit\u2019s going to be like this forever. Things unfold in the glow
\nof your precious attention; off-peak hours, in its quiet
\nand springless your work you together; a seamless elision.
\nThere is nothing you can\u2019t do, then, now, and just like that
\nyou know it will never be different from this, again, ever,
\nof course now and finally yes.
\nThe next morning, you wake up bleary and it\u2019s sitting
\non your legs, staring at you, solid-faced. What will today
\nbring? you wonder, trying to shift under its endless weight.
\nHoping, not hoping.<\/p>\n
\u201cI threw up on your desk,\u201d it says.<\/p>\n
~ Emma Healey<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
By Katie Stobbart My Poetry Month Choice: “Work Suite” by Emma Healey Photo Credit: Funky64 (www.lucarossato.com) via Compfight cc Prose poems aren\u2019t always easy to pull off. The best ones I have read simultaneously bend and embrace both forms; they have the poem\u2019s hyperawareness of language and devices and prose\u2019s steadiness, its stream-like […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":107,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-137","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/107"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=137"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":139,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/137\/revisions\/139"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=137"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=137"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=137"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
![\"English](\"http:\/\/blogs.ufv.ca\/english\/files\/2015\/04\/English-blog-glass-box-200x300.jpg\")
<\/a>Photo Credit: Funky64 (www.lucarossato.com)<\/a> via Compfight<\/a> cc<\/a><\/p>\n