the whisper of black hole total pull
cosmic flush and strobe
stanzas are powerless, but motor hard
destiny’s choreography demands oblivion
grave lockstep at the eternal shut door
in el paso del norte a false star glares
a real mountain—autobiography of earth
this land is intimate with joy and plague
when it rains in cd juarez it rains here
sky like soul heeds no borders
soil like body will exhaust and submit
viruses too lack respect for imaginary lines
elemental hope and terror both defy language
the first time we made love in a pandemic
it wasn’t less transcendent than usual or more
which is to say—it was utterly transcendent
nights we’re watching star wars with Emerson
she wonders at the dark side of the force
i’m happy we haven’t taught her religion
troubled that she’s had to learn oppositionally
there’s a universe in any regular home
it’s not that far from here to infinity really
this same storm ever rages creates & destroys
having not a single worry about the economy
there’s still the hungry and the oppressed
death doesn’t care if you can count to a billion
no point living if life’s split into mine and yours
can you still hear the music from this prison?
i guess rapunzel’s tower must’ve had a stellar view
the bright side is best seen in dark places
it’s just that there’s stubborn light in everyone
and there’s space here for what we’ll be next
unimagining us since animal innocence
counterpointing the lie of competition—hope
unfastening the spirit from the passion of stuff
mending all the fascist bruises and the blues
to dance like wild children—physical and free
entranced to deliver the plenty to the many
that’s got to be something worth catching
while we run from prison in a spreadsheet
from being counted and labeled into shame
obviously a stuck fool trusts a prevailing wind
a bully reads the stars from his pocket knife
lost to a sharp science gleaning via explosion
or there’s the ignorance of the chosen cowboy
forever roiling like the universe he can’t forgive
a giant sadness that grows from small fear(s)
best wishes for expropriation with love xoxoxo
proletarian dictatorship and all that—until
we might drown the dictatorship in our hearts
be serious about never being serious again—
having to labor and fret over maybe mattering
was never a way to live