a.sign.in.space
22/10/2012 § Leave a Comment
but only a general thickness of signs superimposed and coagulated,
occupying the whole volume of space;
it was constantly being dotted,
minutely,
a network of lines and scratches
and reliefs and engravings;
the universe was scrawled over on all sides,
along all its dimensions.
There was no longer any way to establish a point of reference:
the Galaxy went on turning but I could no longer count the revolutions,
any point could be the point of departure,
any sign heaped up with the others could be mine,
but discovering it would have served no purpose,
because it was clear that,
independent of signs,
space didn’t exist
and perhaps
had
never
existed.
Mushrooms
02/09/2012 § Leave a Comment
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly
Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.
Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.
Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,
Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,
Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We
Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking
Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!
We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,
Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:
We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot’s in the door.
