A raindrop forms a hypothesis, if
we could be small enough we could
peer through the refracted world
wear it over our pupils. Pass through
our losses
A simple
the perfect shape of freefall no thing
implicated is imperfect but the shape of the cosmos,
other motions.
Aeons of maths. Grammar demands
a particular scale,
a Newtonian formula. The maths and losses
strikes a sentence and splatters
drops smaller and smaller. Our scale scatters.
Matters are too simpl
these thumbsy pre
positions damn this
where is my language at a distance?
Does grammar have a peculiar scale? Is it a
I meant performs.
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1 comment:
I dig these, Seanster. I would love to read a book of them. Then again, I love fragments, parts, and poems which seem to be at once feeling and interrogating language, as this does.
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