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




Jorge Mejia Hernandez