from August 9, 2015
Punctuated Equilibrium
Heat lightning. The dogs disperse, on their own.
I whistle and only dark comes groaning back.
The heavens shudder, dim, un-starred, undone.
Doors open, twist off those derelict frames.
Hidden voices by thousands thrum their constant
compound song. I’m bitten, dozens of ways,
consumed and given to. In the far field
I can see—once-human hay rolls become
lost tribes of gathered life. All entangled.
Webs catch our chest and eyes, trail us for miles
through treetops and tectonic grind, dragging
elder galaxies and strange earths into sight.
My cells renegotiate the basic deal—
we shift, we speak what humans would not hear.
Ah, I should add a few select and intriguing paragraphs from Lynn Margulis and Dorian Sagan's Acquiring Genomes: A Theory of the Origin of Species, but I finished it last week and loaned it to Soren. Maybe I'll add some stuff later. (But the many semesters approach, and "later" is less certain.)
later, bob
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