Monday, November 14, 2022


It's there—
in those disorienting 
little white blips 

which appear 
and dance zigzags 

when you shut 
and clench 
your eyelids;

which seem to flaunt 

and silently 
push back 

against your mind's 
own disorienting- 
but-steadfast denial 

of what you 
could never call 
absolute black

that's where 
the very last and 
as-yet unexplained 

mystery that's left 
in all of modern 
physics lives: 

that tiny 
but stubbornly 
irreducible constant, 

that little corpuscle 
of troublesome 
noise in the signal 

which laypeople 
still call their sense 
of intuition.