Robert Delaunay, 1938, "Rythme n°1," oil on canvas

Robert Delaunay, 1938, “Rythme n°1,” oil on canvas

A Poem By Cassidy Viser

Over broken synaptic impulse fire is wait. Is through bleeding color. I am
thinking of the predisposition of something pointed. Of osmotically split wound. I rise in option and I am
all the divisibility of the physic root. I thought to write rot. In the constitution of mere movement. I am
the surrounding. “I am a cage, in search of a bird.” What reminds the distance of final consideration. I am
all of such volitional mystery, as by the waited pass of never. Opened page wide. I am
das unheimliche, self-fulfilled perceptual— Wrapped implosion of obsession—Having seen what I am
I connect to the farthest enclave of the interior of the pursued potential of the bloodless thought of I am

Cassidy Viser is a student at Cornell University, majoring in Architecture and minoring in Philosophy and Poetry. For her architectural thesis, she is examining the overlap of the poetics of space with Wittgenstein’s philosophical ideas. She has previously been published in Mistake House and Kitsch Magazine.