"moorgate", Benedicta J. Foo
learning how to hold your heart is a lesson
in building. what makes concrete: part water
part earth, part portland cement. sculpting:
accounting for all the hands it will take
to shape these towers. detailing: the tools required
to make stucco from beton brut. accommodating:
for 1,156 persons, no one further than 20 metres
from the hearth. decorating: how many plants,
and which £220 twyford basin fits where. orbiting:
a good estate has to come in a set of steeple,
school, where you find comfort in buses, and
i in trains.
then the negotiating:
where does a pond cease to exist
and a lake begins? how much london city can i keep
in your new york stojo cup? do i have to share
it with your morning prayers? what will you get
in return for £220 back and a utilitarian
sink? which absorbs and melts:
the concrete or the water?
i have to ask what feels necessary
in case these notes don’t reach home.
in the nine years we have spent constructing
a scallop trim for this house, know that i
have only once attempted writing without
the sea. i find that this no longer matters:
there are only 2,474 synonyms
for all that remains wet.