Originally published in Bear Review. Volume Eleven, Issue 2. 2025. Pushcart Nomination.
What ugly? Told the God the little frog
and bowing. Told the designs of Saturn
infinite space and breaking aether. Ruin
too oblivious, too simple where there’s
the alternative of explaining each high
sophistication in the mellow unraveling.
Aware that the planets look circled due
to our own limited sense. Asked the God
by the man who had wanting. Two because
more felt selfish. Ugly the judgement
of those with ideas. Brains to maneuver
in dimensions not to undo them. Love,
what a reduction. A statue of a princess bust
hiding her arms and mistaken for virtue.
In this iteration of knowing: holes
so attractive all far forms bend
without conscience. Aren’t I so gravity?
Slow, time becomes organic and I am
amphibian and brass and also never.
Out in the weather I go verdigris green.
When there’s no romance, there’s still
equation. When is a flawed questionword
supposing a touchable order; Why
demands thought in the math. Don’t ask
at all, small water-creature. Be mud,
and climbing up. Be clay, pretty for desire.
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