Mend your blood
Tell it stories about its ancestors, red their blood.
The man’s meaty white arm and a 90
pound weight suspended lightly off
nothing, off a body’s useless effort and
relentless machine lust. First there was space.
Inside space there was light, very faint at first, then brighter.
From within the light burst matter, exploding through every dimension to new ones and back
through to old, older than the concept of time.
This starstuff became roughly circular, planetary.
One of these, a comfortable distance from the light, played host for millennia
to varying degrees of bacteria which eventually
joined forces in molecular shape to become symbiotic forms.
There evolved a kind of relating between matter and matter that was, on the whole, mutual.
Pause to pet the cat.
machines won’t kill us faster than the plastics will.
Intimacy with nothing
so much as cellular suffering
the silicone intrusion
chemicals we breed and grow around
tell us where to shit and who to love
tell us what we don’t decide
ourselves. Nothing can’t be fixed.
Nothing can be fixed we didn’t break.
“I don’t want to live in a world without killer whales”
my friend texts me, in quotation marks. I don’t
know that I want to live at all but here I am, loving it.
Silence now and the murmur of distant voices
drills drilling, hammers hammering
Something encounters wood.
Squeaks itself free.