7. "we might have stayed in this minute"

Mina Loy's Insel says to her narrator: "I . . . see clearly into you. Your brain is all Bronte"--this after Mina Loy's narrator says to Insel: "You're acting Kafka." Life is so fanfiction. Poetry, too.

The everything of Mina Loy becomes also the everything of Susanna Gardner's [lapsed    insel   weary]. Loy's wirepuller from "Love Songs" becomes Gardner's toothpuller.  Loy's Arno becomes Gardner's  "filthy Potomac":

Now only the filthy Potomoc speaks in it
dead-pan sputters in its wry in its hushed-up
way in waves while we have walked in the
nights faint light having since watched

The incoming planes create such strong havoc
abandoned among errant waves over words
we now remain incoherent we now stay

Poetry is so fanfiction.  Life, too.  Imagine the ways we translate: "I have thrown the central/ port of our desire into my most nar-/ row river: so only I will know where/ I have placed it."