obscure moon lighting an obscure world

A horse hair falls into the water and grows into an eel.
Even Aristotle believed that frogs
formed from mud,
that mice sprouted like seedlings in the damp hay.

I used to believe the world spoke
in code. I lay awake
and tried to parse the flashes of the streetlight—
obscured, revealed,
obscured by the wind-sprung tree.
Stranded with you at the Ferris wheel’s apogee
I learned the physics
of desire—fixed at the center,
it spins and goes nowhere.

Pliny described eight-foot lobsters
sunning themselves
on the banks of the Ganges. The cuckoo devouring
its foster mother. Bees alighting
on Plato’s young lips.

In the Andes, a lake disappears overnight, sucked
through cracks in the earth.
How can I explain
the sunlight stippling your face in the early morning?

Why not believe that the eye throws its own light,
that seeing illuminates
the world?
On the moon,
astronaut David Scott drops a hammer and a falcon feather,
and we learn nothing
we didn’t already know.

—-

Ancient Theories

Nick Lantz

—-

Graphic - Jaroslaw Kubicki

See Through Person
Glocca Morra
See Through Person

I’m sitting on the bus to find out about you.
I get up, you get up.
How can I place what can’t be replaced without you?
I can’t let go.
I’m not a man anymore.
And I swear I’m gonna lose it
the second you walk out the door,

but it goes on.
And the strings that I pull too hard never got me too far.
I can’t hold your hand through.
Casey, come on.
You can not see,
You can not see through,
You can not see through person.