Descaling Agent  

the fullness of the act of 
having flickered, having flicked  
having tried to kiss 
the flickering dog face while waiting 
to get online, waiting to 
recall having recalled the moment of 
recall of 
learning of 
the you know  
and the learning of 
the  
you know  


and the watching of  
that, it 

asked to quantify it,  
that  
that feeling 

asked to scale it, 
that, the feeling  

told to cool it with the empathy though  



the dog doesn’t eat alone  
the dog doesn’t know about the coup attempt  


lately 
just so 
slow minded  
like 
full torso to the boogey board, bobbing on a moon pull,  
waiting for the big one


unfortunately this is all sad stuff  
intense words i resist sharing  
but thanks  
split bottle  
a familiar laugh  

in a very short dream i went to the highway that was also a beach and in a more recent dream the herder who took me there told me of their fully healed heart they had given to someone else, and asked for my advice. 



in presurveillance i made no plans  

i’m the glass and you’re the scrub  


ads for things happening in ten months

i don’t know what to write but things are happening 
and i don’t know what is happening
it’s been so many years of question marks  

so many interruptions in the form of 
everything 


and what of it all 


what will happen  

snotting away in there  
the clarity of green goo  
i am sure i have it  
cavernous  
a mythical experience  
that sneezing  


could i be contagious  
reenacting the feelings of 
living but  
with some break down  
an extra line over forehead  
an extra gesture of recall  



what will happen  
the feeling of needing in response to 
the feeling of certain expectation 
like something is surely bound to happen but 
what exactly is to be unknown but 
like we’ve been witnessing things to do 
and do indeed happen and 
the happening things are events 
indeed (the dog continues to wake at 3am to bark his concern, his panic of being
left in the night)  
and as such we should be prepared for 
and what 
what kind of things can happen, 
what can be prepared for? it’s more than expected, 
but there’s always sweeping that could be done 
in prep, always mopping, the emails, 
the regularity of this is not 
yet the new thing, the new happening, 
it is something like a sorry 
i have only this bag i can offer you but 
it is still a bag and still 
a thing you possess and offer 
and you still exist in your space 
as such 
the secret is that we go on living 
and like that things happen 
and things keep happening 
and we keep prepping and as such 
things continue and continue 
and i feel and feel and feel and feel and 
wait and feel and hear it 
and feel it and yadda 
yadda behold the world, behold the wolf man 
yowling on the congressional balcony 


the dog thinks we have left him
we are upstairs and he is downstairs  
it is 2:53 am and every night he panics  
knowing we are gone  
she tells him no 
barking there’s optimism in that, 
in that he is deaf. 


i’ve been tasked to document the sun, whatever that means to me.

Glynnis Eldridge is a writer and artist from New York and a farming-focused part of Connecticut. Her work has appeared in Blazing Stadium, Glass: A Journal of Poetry, poets.org, and others. She is a Pushcart Prize Nominee, and a recipient of an Academy of American Poets Colleges & Universities Prize. Her piece “to allow it to happen / to tolerate (an excerpt)” was selected by Jenny Zhang for the Quarto Nonfiction Prize in 2018. She runs the Highland Avenue Writers Workshop. More via glynnis.com.