Lines of Non-Extension

Janis Anne Rader

Shaping the latest space suits, 
the astronauts inside them,  
and earthly beings, say you and me  
on a Southampton beach, spooning  
after the long dry spell of non-extension, 
you tracing circles on my bare midsection 
me taking note of the lines,  
neither of us drawing vectors,  
but a lot more telegraphed 
under the shade umbrella  
than points lacking stretch or contraction.  

High in the heavens, the astronauts  
dip and bend their marvelous bodies,  
their pressurized suits,  
tracking the lines,  
tracking tension,  
tracking movement,  
all these elegant lines 
of non-extension, crossing the body,  
ethereal 
notional  
biomechanical 
Lines                 as daring as Pollock.  

The lovers stir and stretch, move their 
crisscrossed limbs,  
extend 
their languid  
bodies, hungry for touch,  
extend 
their fingers to reach for skin,  
take their measure of love, of space, 
of motion  
toward or away from the other,  
hearts as rulers, skin as sensors,  
after 
the long dry spell of contraction,  
the lack 
of extension,  
plotting their circles and lines. 

Tucked in their labs, the designers are dreaming 
drawing their vectors and volumes of circles 
charting how circles deform to ellipses, 
plotting the points, the sweet intersections,
computing the gaps in stretch and contraction,
mapping our skin,  
mapping limbs,  
mapping the moves of our musculature
keeping us mobile, keeping us safe, 
mapping the lines,  
the notional lines,  
running along the space of our bodies, 
measuring lines to pressurize, 
measuring lines to sensitize, 
measuring lines to synchronize,  
to move us in perfect time. 

The Science

I have always been entranced by space. Outer space and the space negotiated between human beings. This poem measures the connections between the two. Our measurements of the lines of non-extension are vital to ensuring the safety and mobility of our astronauts in their space suits. We human beings are constantly measuring our love for our romantic partners, using similar and different metrics, to calculate extension and contraction, to maintain intimacy and inner stability. Each of us are like astronauts, our lives connected by invisible networks affecting our skin, our musculature, our motion, our safety, our emotions, whether we see them or not. The lines of non-extension are biomechanical notional lines crisscrossing the human body, along which body movement causes neither stretching or contraction. Space suit designer Arthur Iberall mapped them in the 1940’s. These lines are used to direct the placement of tension elements in a spacesuit to preserve constant suit pressure regardless of the motion of the body. 

The Poet

Janis Anne Rader is an American poet who resides in Marin County, California.  Besides poetry, she has interests in mathematics, biomechanics, and astronomy. She earned her A.B. in Music at Stanford University. She is an accomplished classical pianist, composer, teacher, and mediator. She has previously been published by Consilience, the Marin Poetry Center Anthology and the Berkeley Free Library.  Follow Janis on Twitter at @NewPortia and on Instagram @jarpoems.

Next poem: mean time by Max Mulgrew