windows

of

Whoever leads a solitary life and yet now and then wants to attach himself somewhere, whoever, according to changes in the time of day, the weather, the state of his business, and the like, suddenly wishes to see any arm at all to which he might cling–he will not be able to manage for long without a window looking on to the street. And if he is in the mood of not desiring anything and only goes to his window sill a tired man, with eyes turning from his public to heaven and back again, not wanting to look out and having thrown his head up a little, even then the horses below will draw him down into their train of wagons and tumult, and so at last into the human harmony.

–

Franz Kafka, “The Street Window.” Translated by Willa and Edwin Muir in The Complete Stories (Schocken Paperback 1976). First published 1912.

Does it feel alright to not know me?

I’m addicted to the ‘if only’

So I look in people’s windows

Like I’m some deranged weirdo

I attend Christmas parties from outside

I look in people’s windows

In case you’re at their table

What if your eyes looked up and met mine

One more time

–

Taylor Swift, “I Look in People’s Windows.” Track 25 on The Tortured Poets Department: The Anthology. Released April 19, 2024.

Inside, outside.

Any arm, a specific arm.

Attachment of wholes, completion to a whole.

Harmony, melody.

What do we keep out with panes of glass?

What do we let be seen through the glass?

Thinking.