from I’m I’m

If the rules say “Say
I’m I’m twice” do you

do that, do you say
I’m I’m twice? Rules can’t

tell people not to say
what can’t be said clearly

and expect them to obey;

obedience isn’t just careful tread,
expectation isn’t just careful tread.

I’m following one rule (the
one rule that encompasses the

others), therefore I’m following all
the rules. The one says

incompleteness is it. Just say
tautology after tautology until context

comes true around you. Just
put “The End” at the

end (where it stands in
for the incompleteness) and be

done with it. Whatever. “Whatever
I can’t speak about, I

can’t speak about.” That’s okay,
this isn’t speech. The End.

I’m I’m. It’s not something.
I’m saying it too clearly.

I wield the flashlight of
consciousness, illuminating the beam of

consciousness shining forth. The visual
analogy’s bad because the brain’s

using words to resemble it,
not unlike how like I’m

I’m isn’t to the swan,
spotlit (or not) in silhouette.

What would it mean that
love is far from mind

if incompleteness were everywhere and
mind were contained inside it,

a wasp rasping around inside
the inside of a balloon?

I’m I’m. Mind seems to
know words in order, or

to know words in order
to know words in order.

This is going in circles;
you want what you have

named love to encircle you
in ceaseless animal parade fashion;

there is no end of
circling, circumambulating, the end; always

the bluebird isn’t truly blue;
the shipworm (which is not

a worm) outlasts the age
of ships; everything gets named

away in one punishing push;
the creation, betrayed, presses on;

you never give my name;

love persists within a lack
of love, bound up in

a real and solid world
in a perfectly transparent language;

one goes way out of
one’s way, yes spouting commonplaces

but what else is it
for, the going out of

one’s way? But I watched
you, I wanted you! Why

did that happen? A commonplace
happened, and all creation went

way out of our way;

I’m I’m is a chapbook from The Economy Press.

∩

Jon Woodward’s books include Rain, Uncanny Valley and The Amber in Ambrose. He is the author of the chapbooks I’m I’m, POOLGOER and SPELEOGRAPHER, and a collection of translations of Brazilian poet Nicolas Behr entitled mirror-city, all published by The Economy Press. A handful of web projects and videogame-adjacent prototypes can be found on his website, jonwoodward.net. He lives in the Boston area with his wife Sam, and works at the Harvard Museum of Comparative Zoology.