from FAQ
When the Ragged Hours Fall at Last so Finally into Place
Here in the moment held, stopped
short of metaphor—the scene
perceives itself: unfiltered ancient
sentiments of form, absence and ignition
witnessing the augmented organic. A new
tectonics through which skin and breath is echoed in
its heaving between
these arch cavities. We are all only
gravity’s captives dressed as guests.
Poised, prayer foot hovering, stuck
inches above the preponderant
probability of ground and that other
nagging percentage of perception’s
eventual, inevitable
failure—where the channel currents wail
away the air between us
and land. And land.
When Your Second Hand Origin Myth is Worn Through from Overuse
Bishop Ussher’s arithmetic predicted this particular
history began on a Monday: October
24, 4004 BC. To be exact
is really just to guess with great confidence at. Anything
your personal logic allows for, probability
be damned, is truth. The reason
no pole is fixed
between Greenland and Siberia is magnets
make bad maps and earth’s
iron ore core is still working out
its toddler’s wobble. After all these years,
we’re still tracking shadows down from the flash
mob of creation. Gathered in
dark corners of the universe like dust
bunnies swollen under our mixed skin
cells’ weight, atomic conglomerates continue
their processes of coalition and accretion. Hold on
tight to oblivion’s handrails. The big bang is about
to go off again like a Pegasus piñata.