many rooms, 7
June 2017
where everything made sense
“My Father’s house has many rooms”
- John, 14:2
an infinitesimal
almost capillary fissure
on the thinnest layer of coating
has stared back at me
from the blank surface
I’ve spent hours in front of this crevice
sometimes confident
(it’s a normal dilatation
in the vinyl or the stucco or the plaster
reacting to changes in temperature
or dampness
or uneven settlement)
sometimes curious
(where does it start or end?
does it look like anything?)
or distracted
(there's a lot of other stuff around here
listen to all that's going on outside!)
often bored
for an instant I've thought
that this negligible crack
on the skin of a wall
is the crack
and the paint and the stucco the cement and the sand
and the bricks and the wall
and the room and the house and the city
where I try to sit
still
Jorge Mejia Hernandez