The box kite floating high over the marsh and the string, the downward trailing arc of which you are following across an abstract blue field past curious geometrical forms of white and yellow & a cloud of mechanical birds wobbling their machine trajectories through modalities of falling, some mirroring the arc of the string, others tracing angular shapes against the receding blue of your visual field & you choose one and its falling toward the point of its absorption & across the marsh surface a human shape separating from a cube in the ochre and green of the grasses carries two long poles red at each end then stops; two red flags blur hesitate blur hesitate a message mediated by distance and distortion, deciphering and distraction, static and memory and the forms are gone. Traveling back toward the memory bird you find yourself disoriented.











The box kite floated high over the...