Mark Young

The Cognitive
Science Society
says that time
is a one-way
conveyor belt &
we’re already
moving forward
on it. The Garment
Workers’ Union
partially agree;
but they claim
refugee workers
from the future
use one-way time
machines to come
& work cheaply
in the present. A
pity it wasn’t the
Sex Workers’ Co-
operative making
the claim — I’m
sure that not all
fetishes have been
invented yet, & they
might have brought
some new ones
along with them.

How will future &
futuristic advances in
technology influence
the lunchtime lycra of
cyclists or add points
to your frequent flyer
card? This message,
written on every avail-

able rock, & ubiquitous
on taxicab & fast food
outlet menu screens, has
turned entire neighbor-
hoods into havens of
hate or hotbeds of lust.

If there is not a point at
which the heart is lifted, at
least to which the eyes are
pointed. If there is not a
lift, a point, at which the
eyes are heartened. Then come
spiraling down the hillside
on a bicycle, come freewheeling
down, the bicycle lifted, the eyes,
the heart, a point at which
the hillside opens, beats, the lifted
eyes, the pedals left, the hillside
lifted, the heart is left alone.

From the benches, black with people,
there went up a muffled roar…
Ernest Lawrence Thayer: Casey at the Bat

Some boys like to wear dresses
& play with makeup — at first
he wasn’t one of them. But under-
standing yourself takes time; &
even longer to come to view gender
as a fluid concept. He became more
body conscious, spent time looking
for a particular fit to fit his body;
until sparked by a comment from
a member of his Facebook group,
they started going to the mall, trying
on clothes. Began to relish dressing
up, late nineties style with low-rise
jeans & mid-drift tops, not so much
a personal taste as a required uniform
that helped them express their sense
of style. Even wore heels when she
went out. Serious about it. No longer
role-playing. Now dressed for gender.

Evidence of increasing age includes
painting by numbers with your eyes
closed. That way the fact that you
don’t have any art tools is of little
import. The sweep across the backs
of your eyelids is what matters, can
be dramatic when what you’ve done
is satisfying, or act as a form of wind-
shield wiper that clears away debris,
or poor color choices, or any other
thing that gets in the way. Don’t for-
get that the last line is left in limbo.

The structure. Incline, endocrine. Faint
taste of the roundabouts – various birds,
trees at disparate stages of their fruiting.

The approach is a cautious one. Recline,
exocrine. People patiently wait their
turn. The birds attack the trees. Fruit falls.

The results are disappointing. Supine,
decline. Impatience replaces. Death rates
rise. Empty trees. The birds have flown.