On FB world the other day, Alec Niedenthal called it a “hymn to science.” WOW. That’s the truth out of a mouth.
A pulsing poem, a truth-grasping hymn, a dying human body, all pieces of the same weirdo puzzle reminding us we are both alive and dying and living and dead, pieces of us flaking off, pieces of us rubbing together, pieces of us flaking off and rubbing together. Ain’t nothing better than that reminder, sad or joyous, pornography or stroll through the park.
Pray the fools don’t eat our micro-
cosmos Sanctuary from low
pressure, this ain’t
the science of emergence electro chair’s
your uncle mad heliogram warns
not to siphon Satan’s bed
Glory be the boat-hat a wayward
molecule in the gap
between its own front teeth
when it sighs, Syringe me, darling
I’m a spectrometer between worlds