Impossible Task

In truth, leaves don't fall; they're pushed. As cool air dances through deciduous branches, trees prepare like any other. Photosynthesis has become a fantasy, setting off the clockwork process of abscission. Hormones sever stems in an inside job, waiting for weight and gravity to do the rest—a fatal tag-team of biology and physics.

In Another New Calligraphy's second Impossible Task, green eyes glow with their own lost hour and faceless bodies float to the Seine's surface. Hearts are halved and hidden, as smashed berries fill sidewalks and concrete plays in the wind. Black masses float on a midnight swingset. The glass eye slips beneath naked skin. S.O.S. signals distress and meals are made of crumbs. The sky's blue abyss melts into hospital walls, far from a contagion's illusory death-rattle. Visitors disregard a zoo's abuses, while a white-throated sparrow seeps lonely in a ghostly shrub.

Please give yourself a quiet moment to enjoy Impossible Task.