Judith Lloyd

Frequency Translator



Pacified in the winking

of broadcast towers

I forget it's all terrible

and everything is my fault.


Somewhere someone

is winding a thread

around their index finger

for no good reason.


Somewhere someone

asked against her better

judgment: and as his gaze

degrades to synthesis,


their exchange to a theory

of exchange, she regards

his plastic opacity and wonders

why she never took ballet.


Somewhere, someone

forgot. Just for a moment,

just long enough to remember

some other question,


some other itching under

the skin. Perhaps it's enough

to remember: we're always

somebody forgetting


something. To collect or

to grasp, to appreciate

or maintain. It lives

in the periphery, brushing


the fine hairs or tearing

into the lower lip. It's

always just out of the

corner of our eye. Or


it isn't. There and gone,

no primary function to the blink,

just a psychic placation

in the place where thought


transitions to message.

Hear me out: we are all

blinking, there in one moment,

there in one moment, there


in one moment, and then

Judith Lloyd is a Baltimore-based artist, writer, and monologist. Her publications include Read It Back (Dancing Girl Press, 2014) and All of a sudden our bodies are objects (Zoetic Press, 2019). She's contributed to Nonbinary Review, 100 Word Story and Unbroken.