(1) every puzzle has an empty space, and a piece that never seems to fit
everywhere.
on the train in november I found
a duality called us (antithesis as mirror) sorry it is colder here than I remembered
and I am tired
of being called a dreamer
because i am lucid, because my
neurons (fire and ether) sync beyond control.
because
(2) I contest the theory of gravity:
some day, everything will go up
and up,
but until then my eyes drench
at everything that falls, water and
wormwood and humanity and
universe
and you.
every day I learn to
entropy and I am so afraid
of you of you of you:
you shattered cathedral, you bitter star,
let me find you until nothing ever falls
apart, until my flesh is wrenched in
the shape of your emptiness
(3) I propose a new topology of whole, where you
are not irrevocable.
where (4) our redemption arcs tend to
I nfinity, only
not on this restricted domain, confined to
our Euclidean—or was it out Cartesian?—minds
(forgive me, I can never seem to find…)
paint me a knight and you will understand:
I am not tilting at windmills, only
the machine—
but oh how beautiful it is!
fertile dance of mountain and sky,
even the fly’s humming forms a part
in the harmony, the disorder
(words that I can never seem to find)
the earth sings grass, this desperate anthem of
growth
=decay.
everything wheeling and wheeling,
in the song that is also a scream
(and a death sentence)
before the train and november and the descent,
my pupils gorged with waterfall,
I almost forgot
the teeth of the gear in every pulsing cell.

yet

in this whole dazzling picture, this verdant
mechanical everywhere,
I can never seem to find
myself.