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there is a pact that needs to be made from the start
this enigmatic work is part art. part science.
there’s no room for barging in and demanding compliance.

perhaps like the prisoners who are freed from the cave
and come to understand that the shadows on the wall
are actually not reality at all. the aim is to understand
and perceive higher levels of reality. however, the other inmates
of the cave do not even desire to leave their prison, for they know
no better life.

“it no longer works,” teachers cry at professional development meetings
and graduate level courses. how many years will they cry about
the brutal force of the industrial model of education
and yearn to free their students, only to succumb to another
college prep year, forcing kids through the meet grinder of curriculum.

i could only dream on my own time, the quite girl sitting in the back
scribbles on her arm, the bottoms of her shoes, anywhere she’ll leave a mark.
her mind a drift on a boat on a still lake, every breath a ripple,
bird songs quieting for the night, the black contrast and shadows
are the ink into which she will disappear.

people make little sense to her
and this campus
too loud.
too demanding
of her tender wishes.

her teachers’ best attempts feel like nothing
more than carefully scripted lies. how can they
really care about her, when they are blinded by their agendas
and can never have the capacity to know her?

like guy montage hiding his letters,
she keeps her knowledge safe from their flames.
“come,” an empty future calls to her in the stillness
away from their incessant pressure.  

the number of steps are infinite.
her thoughts knotted into figure eights.
this enigmatic work is part art. part science.
part something else all together.