smashed back to the metaphysical realm

i dunno seems to me
the more mucking with fermilab
we do , the closer we come to finding
a big bang. time sped up, the restaurant
is getting full and i don't know if
we can fire the grill fast enough
to handle dinner,.
--zaphod beeblebrox from the lost chapters of the hitchhikers guide.



just beneath the surface of your skin
where the oort cloud dances with other valent
planets, you left the door unlocked again
so i snuck in. i slipped between the wave particle
duality, brought my crochet needles, purled
a singularity, knowing you would not
notice. knowing it.

i couldn't find my keys this morning
so when i said please dont lock the door if you leave
when i'm coming home, like you seem to always do
i kinda knew you would. blech. this is not at all
the profound thoughts i had while i waited
in the car, reclined, in approaching dark
cold settling in like brown coffee stains

falling lightly asleep ; that state where
you blue shift up a phase, become jet shush
and a the little boy playing ball on his screend
porch.  not at all.

















*(*(*(*(*






two screens work better
as imago, imagine
transparent wings, triumphant
in foreground, while blurrily
behind them the tiny neucleus
is dragged along. i can see this
if i don't have to map the vectors
just watch  armies advance
at the behest of  massive neutrons
residing somewhere in this tractor beam
scotty, i can feel them tryin to rip apart
before i''m ready to smash em
like kix are for kids, into each other
which smithereens crumbly into
bose einstein constant carpet/carstant


and then what homie?what do you want
to find? smaller and particles perhaps
that somehow will be the last ones mapped
or journey into the heft of strings springing
from nowhere save desire. and that
my fried  is how the earth was saved.
because if we don't want it won't be.
slurry, white out, smears across the sky
slowly bring them into focus
playing the surprise me no
don't do that after all i think i know
that's why i'm a poet rather
than scientist. just, if you can
surprise me. grin.


















***







it's odd i would think about you
but facebook brought you up again
as meme-fed pills for ills mommy daddy
made, pyschoanalyzed until you graved
it rather than see  dissapointment
in their faces. they betrayed you my fried
it's not like they could watch you die
but kindnesses were not their ken, selfishly
they had you live, and then
regret and then resentment grew until
these things were all you knew-
that's when we met. right before you stepped
off whatever thin line kept you alive
the way excuses dived from the high board
into the empty swimming pool
at your dad's place or yeah , the reasons
you set my kitchen on fire.
it's like what the hell
what i thinking i'm supposed
to protect my kids from things like you.
she didn't think she was a kid
is how it went. by the time
the man before you was through with me
she'd already crossed into
what she'd be when she grows up.


so i blame myself. she wanted only a bit
of my time she said. she said you always
want to spend time with the him of the minnit
and you will regret it when you're old
and alone and no one talks to you, your family
abandons you because you were not a mother.
and i wonder how i was sposed to do it
not stunt her growth and still be the belly
she stuck her claws in when things got touchy.

and i realise that there were so many things
she was right about and this is another one
because she understood that be a family
you have to spend time with one another
bugging each other about things
but what she don't realize is how
an orphan just really doesn't know that at all
so fuck her. i mean really. i was raised
by wolves, by now she should understand that
and just be over it. she tells me i'm the fool
who's loved three of you and still don't understand
the way moon whips you and chemicals
whisper in your ear. stay and fight another day
or get up, walk away, the fight finds me either way.
witness the latest you.






















*[[*





this poem doesnt want to finish
it wants to dig deeper and deeper
back in time, play in the plasma
from the bang. how did love

come to be in this yellow room,
wearing pink pajamas, soothing
a brow wrinkled above sky
blue eyes? isn't that why you speed

the projector up, move beyond
the way she haunts you now
in dreams, berating the man
you didn't become, how he

calls you on the phone, looking for your son
who has his eyelashes and your heart?
love is in the questions, you think
while i pretend to sit outside it all

with all the answers and a cherry bomb.























*(*









and still we go , further into the maze
the diastole , sistole of stoichiometry













***[[






mornings
you make coffee
bring it to me, with steamed
milk, sugar. i say thank you, give
kisses.

we smoke
separately
try to quit, but mornings
feel like we might live forever
my love

i grab
yogurt, an orange.
you grab me, hold me close.
your back goes through a series of
small pops

you sigh
ask if i've seen
the sudafed. i have.
by the kitchen door, we kiss sweet
goodbye.

love is
less about time
than action. we might have
met 30 years ago and walked
away.

to say
wounds unfurl
slowly denies blood's course
down my legs, all from the inside
and loss.

let's do
this thing right for
a change. mislearn lessons
taught by lust. i think it's time to
trade up.




















*(((

the thing is
i don't know if i coud write a poem
about love that would not be on some level
a metaphysical sub particle caught in a borrowed
valent electron trajectory. it's all chance, you said.
anyone can be anyone's soul mate.
it's a matter of proximity and debate.
and acceptance, i wishpered.
i did. i wishpurred it
so you don't have
to keep doing
that now
from so
far
a
w
a












y




















***