Industrial Architect by Thea Brown

If  only an  __X__  distracted  by arrangement, if  only my
eyelashes singed clean by work, arrangement,  this like no
one  remembers  training  regression.  It’s hard  to see  my
own  complicity,  so  I  don’t  usually.  I  just walk around.
Heated  enough,  rearranging  love  and  money,  which  is
never   one  thing  and  there  is  always  too   much  of   it
somewhere  else, and even so. Cheap. I am  learning  what
it is to have friends, and to stay in when it’s hot, and to go
to  a  dark  bar when it’s hot, and to stay in  the  cities  I’ve
chosen  to  live.  When  I  said  money,  I  meant work,  the
products  of which,  got  it.  Languages condensed back to
symbol  and  then  expanded  to  give   proper  warning  as
interactive. An accurate prediction of rain.  A symbol for a
flower,  which  is  a  symbol for  an entry.  A  landscape  of
enormous  thorns,  jagged  and  menacing,   so   the  danger
rumbles    impenetrably    even   if    its    niceties  are   not
understood.   Ten   thousand  future   years   of    landscape
designed  to  terrify on  purpose,  regression. I do my small
part. I contribute.




Originally from the Hudson Valley in New York, Thea Brown is a graduate of the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, where she was a Truman Capote Fellow. Recent poems can be found in Bennington Review, Conjunctions, Oversound, and elsewhere. She is the author of the chapbook We Are Fantastic (Petri Press 2013) and the full-length collection Think of the Danger (H_NGM_N 2016). She lives in Baltimore, where she was the 2016–2017 Tickner Fellow at the Gilman School, a 2016 Rubys Artist Project Grant awardee, and the recipient of a 2017 UCross Foundation fellowship.