My body slowed in voluntary, wilful
suspended animation / like thought / I am
waiting / on the cross-trainer
Window fly in front / you are dead / which
is a kind of waiting
Arms and legs snapping towards each
other / like rows of teeth in a great big
mouth
Do I mention the loved one / thoughts of
whom I am trying to banish? Or do I just
say that waiting for the loved one is a ruse
/ an attempt to banish myself?
Lax / pushing / lax / … / I would like / … /
to be the fly / … / pushing / amongst dust
/ lax / pushing / the heartrate / pushing /
the intensity
I have been waiting to surrender to the
higher power / any that would ask it:
witchcraft, politics / … / the CIA, yoga / to
force my body through the clunky tasks of
everyday
My legs are the strong front legs of a
horse / power no propulsion / my arms
whip about like an angry jockey /
clenching the belt / guns warm by the end
Screens blink a thousand tiny sums / skull
interfaces / a weight bearing overhead /
all-quantifying
The binary of arms and legs / like cats and
dogs / slugs and snails / your nose and
your mouth / chicken and egg / which
sickness came first / of the mind / or the
body with it?
Here I am / slow / waiting for my heartrate
to drop
I have chosen carefully / the window at an
angle / reflection facing the street /
background: hot buses waiting to move
up and down the road / people in the
sunshine going somewhere presumably /
foreground: a fly crawls across a dirty glass
What I want: the shaky last drag of a
cigarette / the head-swells / to wait too
long to release the clinging lens from the
surface of my eye / so that it might get
stuck
What I want: to be someone having an out
of body experience / in broad daylight /
on an exercise machine
Do I mention the previous visits? / time
adding up in careful slots / delaying
something / waiting / gratifying
something else / the day before / the day
before
Sleepwalking through liquid / waiting for
something that can never come / like a
held dog or baby / half in water / half in
deadly hopeful air
I let someone come over me like a fever / I
am waiting for you to pass
My phone hums against me / the hotel
falling apart opposite / buses stopped at
the red lights / I press the fan button three
times / having made myself wait / I am…
treating myself?
I bore myself at low intensity / waiting for
my skin to shed
The word elliptical / I find more pleasing
than cross-trainer / frequently I am
confused by mundane processes / I wait at
a door that is open for far too long,
believing it locked
Now as always I think of food I’ve declined
What I want: for my body to slick itself
away from me / layer by layer / whatever
is waiting to be something in there /
juices, fats, mantle / peaceably / for the air
to just take it away
I have often thought I would like to be a
puppet, taxidermy or embalmed corpse /
for a procession of friends and lovers to
move my weight through daily tasks
So that my behaviour might have some
excuse / I am waiting to transform into a
monstrous vermin / ungeheures Ungezeifer
There is shivering in / on / my head / … / I
am waiting to be overwhelmed by the
feeling / for the moment / it swells
outwards / … / claims my twitching limbs
for its purpose / … / to crumple softly to
the ground / to fall against cool glass / a
stoned fly
This is not granted / … / I turn off the
machine / … / feel suddenly burn-red and
sweat-damp / … / fall ungratefully away /
the machine beaming my numbers out to
suddenly-turned faces in the bright /
someone calling a window cleaner
Jasmine Chatfield is a Manchester-based writer, theatre-maker and comedian. They produce and co-host Arts Council funded experimental interdisciplinary performance series FLIM NITE. Their sequence of micro-poems, ‘throat thing’, was published as a micro chapbook with Rinky Dink Press. They received a Northern Writers Award in 2017 as one of the New North Poets 2017-2019 in conjunction with Poetry School.
“This poem was written in response to the second assignment of Gloria Dawson’s Desire Studio, in which we were encouraged to write poems that formulated ‘desire’ using form and duration. Inspired by Roland Barthes’ ‘Waiting’ in ‘A Lover’s’ Discourse’, as well as considering the idea of a poem as a unit of time, I wrote a short verse for each minute I spent on the cross-trainer at my local gym trying to keep my mind off something else. I was thinking about how waiting is typically seen as a passive act, while it can in fact be fraught, hyper-active. The poem focuses on both the physical sensations of exercise as well as the places the mind wanders to while the body is occupied.”
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