SEVEN YEAR CIRCUIT A
Our girlhood was spaced apart
By staging the correct loop of deeds
BUT IS THIS WORK COMPUTATIONAL?
My system is different
He flatters the closed
feeds roots, eights among his
My wakelight is start, stop,
in a horseshoe's trace.
I was built by the world
On "Seven Year Circuit A": The brain is a strange archive. Maybe especially in our current technological moment, when so much is surveilled, recorded, and reproducible. Memory can become a type of self-surveillance: cataloged reels that can be rewound and watched over for clues.
On"But Is This Work Computational?": A contributing origin: over Skype, three men and a dog interviewed me for a digital humanities gig. I could only see the dog's ears but his man was unimpressed.