Every insignificant thing
is now vital:
I feel a muon
pass through me
hear the pause
before a songbird loosens its throat –
each window
opens onto your face
& your I-beam blinks
forever
…
your paper cut
is a mortal wound
your spinning arms
are a distant pulsar –
your Bunsen burner
goes supernova –
the death of a star
is measured in months
…
do we waive the blame
or blame the wave?
two plumed white horses
& a glass-sided carriage –
…
a tiny blip
has become the world
a weak signal
the tocsin
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