“Nineteen measures of the words required to hold imperfect love and its double, grief, which do not function independently. Three words come to mind: motherhood, mourning and muteness. A repertoire of intention as contradiction, that is to say, speaking against as an act of devotion. Judy Annear’s soundings makes the rhythm of memory, which is to read again and again.”

—Eleanor Ivory Weber

• I raise my head
• from the soil
• I am estranged
• eroded
• debris surrounds
• me

• with in this
• dissociation
• these gaps
• I wish to
• wholly un glue
• my self
• to hurtle
• mutely between

• if I embrace
• entropy
• can I open
• the door
• & spit into
• the wind
• which never
• hesitates