— after Pollock’s Stenographic Figure 1942
The stenographer stopped taking dictation long ago.
Now the boss leans over his phone and dictates:
To whom it may concern. Colon. The medium dictates
the message. Something is lost—the tachygraphic
swoop of words in air—the tachygraphic
brain, decoding. I have stopped registering
the seriousness of the situation, the deaths hardly registering.
Only ten more than at this time last year. Here
we have flattened the curve. Here,
it feels absurd to go masked, to step off the curb
so that others can pass. The stenographer cannot curb
her enthusiasm. The air about her goes viral,
a burgeoning register of breath. Gone viral,
the stenographer stopped taking dictation long ago.
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