for i will do/undo what was done/undone to me

 by chen chen from when i grow up i want to be a list of further possibilities

i pledge allegiance to the already fallen snow

& to the snow now falling. to the old snow & the new.

to foot & paw & tire prints in the snow both young & aging,

the deep & shallow marks left on cold streets, our long

misbegotten manuscripts. i pledge allegiance to the weather

report that promises more snow, plus freezing rain.

though i would minus the pluvial & plus the multitude

of messages pressed muddy into the perfectly

mutable snow, i have faith in the report that goes on to read:

by the end of the week, there will be an increased storm-related

illegibility of the asphalt & concrete & brick. for i pledge

betrayal to the fantasy of ever reading anything

completely. for i will do/undo what was done/undone to me:

to be brought into a patterned world of weathers

& reports. & thus i pledge allegiance to the always 

partial, the always translated, the always never

of knowing who's walking around, what's being left behind,

the signs, the cries, the breadcrumbs & the blood. the toe-

nails & armpit hair of our trying & failing to speak

our specks of here to the everywhere. dirty snow of my weary 

city, i ask you to tell me a story about your life

& you tell me you've left for another country,

but forgot your suitcase. at the airport they told you

not to worry, all your things have already been sent 

to your new place by your ninth-grade french teacher,

the only nice one. & the weather where your true love is

is governed by principles or persons you can't name,

imagine. it is that good, or bad.