Taxonomy of Suspense by Julie Rada

Taxonomy of Suspense

In junior high I got in-school suspension

insubordination I think

I’m practiced at approaching the line – toes over – not jumping

just close enough

I sat on a bench in the office and read Dracula

I was alright.

Not undone.

In chemistry a suspension occurs when solid particles are mixed in liquid

a heterogeneous mixture

producing sediment

unlike with unlike

common example is mud

unsettled.

In language we use the word muddy to describe situations that are unclear

obscure

sometimes what we do muddies the water

by force of will

or consequences unintended.

In the chambers of my heart there are spaces

open to be filled

thumping and held

with blood

with warmth

a chamber – bed/dungeon/heart – can only exist with both

walls and space

boundary and possibility

a mixture unmixed

unceasing pulse

until death of course.

In May of this year

I still have broken ribs I don’t talk about much

cracked and unhealed

I go about my lists and charts

forever disrupted

by satellite-borne messages – murmur-heart-murmur

as I exert my will and take action into

worlds and futures

unplanned.

In March we were all overtaken

and futures dissipated

presents stretched out both

boundaries and possible

sleep deprived populace

all caught up

all sourdough

all streaming

in chambers

or exposed to the elements

all things equal they’re not

and we’re all caught up

like suspended

flies struggling through days awaiting

predators call autumn

we think

we don’t know

moths beating against bulbs

and the words on all our caught tongues

uncharted

uncertain

we struggle

we’re caught up

upended.

In our conversations there’s no futures

no present

your presence

obscure-possible-murmurings

you muddy the waters

and I’m always

sweaty and dirty these days

unclean

cut short

there’s a sliver of dirt

under my nails

unfazed

and I don’t know what to do with you

at times nothing to be done

undone

but I sense you are solid and time is just water

we tell stories until we repeat ourselves

we met just in March

but all stories repeat

history lies awake with us every night and we

murmur in our sleep pandemic dreams

I could only write this today

in May

unplanned.

In the plague we are all caught up

on sleep and restless

unkindness met with grace

walls met with possible

futures decimated

unintended consequences for January choices

we are all suspended

you and I suspended

subordinate

to the invisible and microscopic

untouched.

In my 40th year unsettled

but alright

I don’t hesitate to cross fences

marching masked on mesas

in muddy conditions

I spot puddles after rains

I don’t hesitate

to approach

the line between land and water

I throw myself in

I make mud

mixing that which is solid with something that flows

it’s only called a suspension until it settles

becomes something else

it settles.

Monday, May 25, 2020

morning

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The Author

Julie Rada is a theatre-maker, educator, and scholar. She has done theatre/performance art for 30 years with a focus on original work and new plays. Julie has worked in the prison system for over seven years, facilitating new works of theatre with incarcerated artists at 10+ facilities.