between the object and the floor

the couch is a pedestal and a shawl

and just woke up her hair. she never

ever leaves the floating other house

but through some stories they call.

later that was her name the collaborator

of things shine in the picture. hand

flew off her early hair though held

by flowers. later her name was grete.

her hair feels angles by flowers that

before her name was shori the

penetrator in the history of no décor.

the station agent intimate with tight

spaces refuse to hit back or be carried.

later her name was danielle goldman

and his serene highness thierry henry.

her head is cut off by a shadow of primary

folded streets she harrass with enjoyment.

later her name is piet. she come from cubie

with the whole club economy in her hand.

when she reclines her head is lifted

by a turn, someone’s arm they left there.

later her name was elouise. watch her

move into the story she still move

     2.

and tear shit up. always a pleasure the banned

deep brown of faces in the otherwise

whack. the cruel disposed won’t stand

still. apparatus tear shit up and

always. you see they can’t get off when

they get off. some stateless folks

spurn the pleasure they are driven

to be and strive against. man, hit me again.

_____________________________

Fred Moten is a poet, literary critic, and professor of English and African American Studies at Duke University. He is author of Arkansas (Pressed Wafer), In the Break: The Aesthetics of the Black Radical Tradition (University of Minnesota Press), I ran from it but was still in it. (Cusp Books), Hughson’s Tavern (Leon Works) and B Jenkins (Duke University Press). His latest collection of essays with Stefano Harney is, the undercommons, (Minor Composition, 2013). “Fugitivity is immanent…” is published in Hughson’s Tavern, (Leon Works, 2008).