Often Glenn Gould forgot what was most relevant to the moment,

the bootheel crushing ice or the lover’s breath,

the basement keystroke or the oncoming truck;

Like him,

I looked at two little girls in the schoolyard

dancing squares,

co-ordinates in the snow,

at the geese marking progress against the sky,

and in the window, the blue square waiting,


the yellow my retina remembered green.

sometimes you sense just like Glenn Gould,

and your head lolls round the world without bias,

here, the metal hand

pushing tubes into the bird’s skull

(the left eye jumped, tether-length)

there, the police slowing down in the road, with suspicion

and all of these inputs can come together into something dizzying and sweet as gasoline,

struck dumb on the sidewalk;

But, the cops remind me,

I need to stop watching little girls.


About Kid-Scissor Hybrid

Online zine of technology + humanity with stories both real and fictional. Celebrating and fearing the inevitable!

One comment

  1. Pingback: Kid-Scissor Hybrid #5 | JM Francheteau

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