I intend to go to the office next to mine to ask some absurd unanswerable question about the body and growing old and being female but I forget to do this and instead I talk some more about the economics of higher education, the student loan industry, various other sorts of numbers. We have been doing this all year, attempting to understand the way these numbers press in on our bodies, trying to find an impossible ethics in them. I go to get back to work, absurd unanswerable question about the body and growing old and being female unasked and before I leave I am given Jennifer Moxley's Evacuations. I take it and read it immediately. It ends:

In fact, if I were an industrial worker
and not a poet and I read this "experiment" I would
think to myself, that poet has too much money,
she has lost touch with working people who
don't care about poetry. It is a vicious cycle.
Bladders and feet, however, are everyone's concern,
culture, education, and class aside. In the present
they press on and pain us. They make me think:
this has got to stop.