Far Things
Far things like the command given to lightning,
To hydrogen atoms that keep the stars shining,
To Adam to come away from the apple tree
Before a gravitating apple strikes his head, chaotically.
(The fall of man is in his desires and how far
Into the abyss, he’s willing to fall for them more.
Aggravated also by the snowball effect
In their multiplicity, in their differences expressed,
And wanting to keep within their groups
With one murderous way or no way loops.)
Tart things like an apple’s taste, not as bright
As its color. It’s a brief thing and crunches in bite,
Like a dry leaf with all its tiny bones to dust folds,
While its seeds root in the guts’ black holes―
Rapt things like accountability groping for itself,
Meticulously misplaced in a sea of ambiguity so well:
(The forest is often green. The forest is often brown,
And it’s not a forest; it’s every lone tree therein found.)
Offish things like these have bald eyes―blind,
The stress of changing passions to a blur find.
