http://ccdigitalpress.org/techne/rhizome2a.html

Video:

A hand grasps a clump of dirt, kneading it and letting it fall slowly through the fingers; in the background is a gnarled tree trunk.

Audio:

To knuckle my hands into soil, to clutch at
Smooth glass from an old wound,
a root,
a bulb,
a rock,
a worm.
This mud digs under my nails, half-watered.
Live to tell. This glass, a cut into my arm. A rock, a memory of stubbornness. You were born angry, says my mother. I brought you home with a scab on your nose that you got from scraping it on the sheet, no, no, no.