(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.