in life, it was you
who played the part
of your own three
weird sister cheerleaders:
from the start,
you'd seen
how this ends,
but still egged
yourself on—as if
even a ruin
could be intelligently
designed.
*
In order to see the future,
we dress it up
as the past.
In an attempt
to hide the past,
we stow it safely
in the future.
But if time
is a smooth line
and not discrete units,
how do we extenuate
the blasphemy
of our
breathing?
*
After the shape
of things is disclosed,
exposing their seams
is easy.
We remain suspicious
of everything we can't see
and afraid
of the common coldness
of plenty
of the things we can.
We propose
a new astrology
to give purpose
to the stars
after failing to divine any
offhand.
