photo by Howard Edin © |
astrophysics
part II
what
you see is what you get
with
near Earth objects
they
close fast
they
like wearing lab coats
with
nothing on beneath
cradling
civilized beings
behind
fastened buttons
on every other side
of
the clouds
there
are master painters
piecing
together experience
into
human myth
elements
are immaterial
they
pinch our pockets
pick
off what love does
leaves
us with coin tosses
and
categories
heads
and tails
life
and death…
with
both hands
on
the wheel
I
ask my companion
what
color cellular growth
will
you be, when you see
Schrödinger's
cat…
we
are outside
of
Barstow, California
the
wind has picked up
and
we are pulling over
to
the side of highway 40
we
wax eloquently
in
the bent light theater
of
dead stars…
the
wind is a pitched howl
deep
into a settled dark
past
the midpoint of Winter
it
carves handles
onto
infinite space
it
whistles membranes
compresses
everything
onto
a shimmering surface
we
are all waiting for time
even
the wind says this
we
think of forever as novelty
and
something only nearly endless
but
finite just the same
the
wind sees forever
as
a new medium
as
something a journey
in
a light speed car might frame
as
being stopped
on
a highway at night
we
are left wanting
the
opening of portals
to
appear as passengers
we
reach for something to eat
on
the hood looking up
at
the stars taking to peeling
an
orange we might share
the
endocrine system is
the
human body’s marvel
of
chemical creationism
we
think therefore we feel
we
react, therefore a thought
hits
the canvas and an outline is born
we
are scared, enlightened, heightened
with
senses on alert to run
or
ring the bell, at the doorstep
of
either side of euphoria
we
are simply baskets
in
the tides, undertaking
what
is now an observation
made
for re-creation
beyond
simple synthesis
and
lab procedures
here
on Earth, large facilities
such
as particle accelerators
are
not the same as small faculties
in
seas of white coats
everything
seizes on chemicals
in
the food chain
that
can mimic
what
interferons do
we
think we might someday become able
to
navigate the real and tiny black holes
the
milliard gateways to hell and heaven
that
lurk in every product that pushes
consumption
for profit as ultimately what
can
constitute real space time
each
examination of all
that
we can write down
and
observe while holding our breath
will
wait with us to hear
the
last gasp ticking of a watch
that
doesn’t at all, sound different
than
the clicking of a death beetle
waking
near Spring…
you
told me having children
in
a base community world
was
just a way of delaying
the
onset of my personal slavery…
not
that I am incapable
of
inspiring learning in children
which
in and of itself might be
the
last best pot of gold…
it
is just that everything has a price
you said, even
me
I
reach for the open side of the fence
in
order to appear real narrow
two
dimensions are the only bibles I read…
I
would rather not speak or write again
to
anyone if at all possible…
to
hide out in the wilderness
in
a ramshackle abode
finding
myself unfit with despair
and
tied to the cycles of trees
you
say there are only cacti out there
and
that they wear purpose too
as
we all do
from
seed to bone
and
so on…
you
said there is a reason
we
use the dead and its decay
in
the soil when planting
crops
for the Spring…
humanity
is very much
a
copy cat species
the
same sort of seed stock each
bleeding for a separate reality, it seems
guess
you are right I said in return
there
might just be too much observation
for
a human divinity
too
little hope placed inside
our
faithless turns for color
for
forms and a best intention
that
windows to any world can promise us
as
a redemption past the pane
I
guess you are right
saying
we are all hungry
that
we might see more
if
we just close our eyes
and
eat that orange
like
the Dawn
eats
the night sky
EJR
©
As always, love the final stanza ♥
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