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COHESION
These words are breath on a cold morning drawn through the throat of the blood-gilled trout—
the belly becomes white, becomes the belly of a cloud front tumbling over snow capped
mountains.
It doesn’t matter the hows or whys
rather that there is nothing else at this moment & everything else from now on.
The sun learns existence from the movement of shadows away from it.
Opposition & survival.
This is existence—
the stuff that sticks like hydrogen atoms to each other.
This is explosiveness—
the twisting of words like so much cording,
the absoluteness of the braid lengthening to keep ships held fast to pilings pushed into the
bedrock under the water of a harbor sloshing against the starboard side & foaming upward at
the gulls feathering the northern wind until they dive for minnows.
the belly becomes white, becomes the belly of a cloud front tumbling over snow capped
mountains.
It doesn’t matter the hows or whys
rather that there is nothing else at this moment & everything else from now on.
The sun learns existence from the movement of shadows away from it.
Opposition & survival.
This is existence—
the stuff that sticks like hydrogen atoms to each other.
This is explosiveness—
the twisting of words like so much cording,
the absoluteness of the braid lengthening to keep ships held fast to pilings pushed into the
bedrock under the water of a harbor sloshing against the starboard side & foaming upward at
the gulls feathering the northern wind until they dive for minnows.
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