being from is important
but difficult: more a convergence
than a causation, always in re-
consideration and return, caught
on that boundary between self-
and social-perceptions of self.
fromness implies a velocity,
but there are many kinds of velox:
the velocity of arithmetic,
a train at one time in one town found
later in another, though summary
statistics of a journey are no
journey at all;
the velocity of film,
played back a frame per year
and seen indirectly: through
telephone chains we track
trajectories of grainy sepia and
imagine motions amongst stills;
the velocity of another runner
on the trail, matching pace and
rhythm briefly, wondering
what your exhaustions speak
to where you started, to how far
ahead you look and hope.
may then fromness fracture its
fractiousness,
float on fellow-feels
flee nostalgia
and free its anchors in fun,
finding solidarity in shared unmoorings
as well as in adjacencies.