tendency

My friends Emily and Claire Rabkin and I are writing a performance about gravity. I keep writing dumb things from airplanes and while half-asleep thinking they have some potential and then hating them. I think I've confused myself. Is gravity a drift, a burden, or a magnetism? Get it straight. I started writing a list of

gravities

of mosquitoes to certain sweet blood
of blood to genitals of lovers
of lovers to necks and thighs
of thighs into wicker chairs (a lurid imprint)
of wicker chairs to a rift in a house
of a house further into a lake

a lake

down through ground to low ground
down to the point of shortage with salty erosion traces without the rain which comes
up from the lake before it comes down?
counter gravities.

a tendency to struggle against and relent to gravity (another one, now gravity is tendency? nothing less porous.)