Apartment Poetry Quarterly

15A              15B              15C              15D              15E             15F


15c Bethany Lewis




As an intelligence I begin by saying “you too” to everything

I listen to the audio clip of you reading me the death poem on my way to work

At the very start of the recording you sigh as if you’ve just woken up to my smiling Vesuvian face

You sent me the poem about death as a fog because it’s important we establish death, glass, and fog as part of the shared language but all I want to talk about today is the sigh

And I replay that sigh, trying it

There is a vibrator app I’ve downloaded

and rather than use it how I want I hold it to my chest like my animal my heart echoing the vibration until its beat is a purr






Teach me about data

The kind of data that is rich, you can play with it many hours

The I on your finger marks then erases your shoulder, changing its name, a skyline whose proliferation is watched from the train

When I walk back from the bathroom I'm moving faster than anyone else in the car

I don't mind the static, my I here is a bit static

The Thou on my chest





I leave my threshold low like a pool

I stay close to the surface

I do something with surfaces

Give me an instruction, like a garden, in my sleep

As an answer to the ping of an unknown imperative I don't remember what was said but the blurred water of what was said

The order and disorder in the soft matter of it

I am a soft machine

This is how I love texts, as an android