entropy (sound/noise)

 none of this should exist
 and the least of these
 wonders should have remained
 starsoup never spreading into
 stardust never assembling into
 life were it not

 for the swirling beauty
 of the tiniest
 disruption

rest mass (MeV)

 strange you say
 how we measure grief
 in years and not
 by the weight of each
 memory sinking to the

 bottom of our guts
 branding flesh that's little more
 than emptiness held
 together by tiny charges
 curious you say

 how the floor can keep us down
 with the weakest force

 as the pain wells up
 through us and around us
 but won't pull us apart

 how it rises to the top
 far beyond our sight
 far above this nervous heap of energy

 how it leaves us with the charm
 of yet another arbitrary day to live

anātman

 let go let go
 he says with a buddha smile
 let go he says
 as if he knew something
 i don't

 need these things
 need love
 need to suffer
 all we need he says
 is to want nothing

 so i consider
 his wealth and renown
 all he could afford
 to give up

 and i reply
 that i would rather
 keep this week
 of dulled pain and unclenched fists

 keep the day off
 from the management of grief

 keep this hour
 in the presence of your desire
 keep this transcendent minute
 and allow myself some things
 i was taught i could never have

isobars

 somewhere on this trip
 along uncertain coastlines
 i forgot what my body couldn't do

 and when the sun fell
 through heavy curtains
 you forgot what your mind didn't know

 the change that came over me
 imperceptible as the shifting seasons
 so bright in its power and glory

 and the change that came over you
 formidable as a field of wild flowers
 with no need for divine intervention

 so when the storm hit
 there was nothing to lock
 and no one to save

 and when the storm passed
 we were still two
 witnesses to the other's change

mendable

 i suppose i should
 fight fascism
 cure cancer
 or at least use my eyes
 mouth and hands and be kind
 to one who doesn't deserve it

 yet all i did today
 was calculate the distance
 from here to you and wonder
 what constellations would watch
 over us swimming through time
 going nowhere in particular

 the soft words and ghosts expelled
 won't serve any eschatology
 the records of this desire
 won't be stripped for parts
 in a banquet speech
 no one toasts to second chances

 yet nothing we do
 is ordinary
 against all unkind odds
 we are
 

angelus novus

 fold your wings
 angel you owe
 nothing to paradise
 nothing to the storm
 that brought you here

 fold your wings
 witness you saw
 all the ruin and
 counted the shells
 at your feet

 fold your wings
 and turn
 and walk
 for another day

Luke 17:20-21

 the choir won't sing their hymns
 for us their house won't give us
 shelter and the heavy summer rain
 is nothing but weather

 we are here by our own signs

 we kept our disbelief until
 the heat broke and any blessing
 was ours alone to give and receive

 we won't wait in the shadows
 for permission to squat
 in the kingdom of grace

 and we won't forget
 their comfort and zeal
 in the kingdom of power

 not amnesty
 but mercy
 no redemption
 just life and the memory
 of days to come

acanthosicyos horridus

 hard light and dead ground
 this country won't abide us alive

 but on better days
 the ocean beyond our reach
 stretched and wrapped us in fog

 just enough
 to trap a few drops
 on our leafless branches

 enough
 to drive our roots
 into the loose sand

 enough
 to fashion our own dunes
 and tap the hidden creeks

 to give shade and bear fruit
 more than enough
 to share

 this country wouldn't abide us alive
 so we changed it