By any measure, it was endless
winter. Emulsions with
Then circled the lake like
This is it. This April will be
Inadequate sensitivity to green. I rose
early, erased for an hour
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Silk-brush and ax
I’d like to think I’m a different person
latent image fading
around the edges and ears
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Overall a tighter face
now. Is it so hard for you to understand
From the drop-down menu
In a cluster of eight poems, I selected
sleep, but could not
I decided to change everything
Composed entirely of stills
or fade into the trees
but could not
remember the dream
save for one brief shot
of a woman opening her eyes
Ari, pick up. I’m a different person
In a perfect world, this would be
April, or an associated concept
Green to the touch
several feet away
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[…] [By any measure] — Ben Lerner [E-Verse Radio] […]