Week 15, Improv 1

Improv, in the spirit of Brigitte's two-liners


On folding a towel

Crease edge to ruffled edge, shaking wrinkles from middle as easily as composure, as an affectation, as an amusement. Smooth those filial, finicky fibers—to the left—and impart your measures like some archaic journaling, like some river will bore your colonialism from bank. Fold in halves or thirds? you ask, as if closet space will also evaporate. As if your efforts, like water, will part to air and in part, air.