For a long time, it seems,
we've been looking
for the source
of the biggest ideas
in the universe
inside of things—
but perhaps
we've been putting all our
eggs in the wrong basket,
and we'd be so much
the wiser to invert
our tired search.
Perhaps, in fact,
all we can sense
is abstract,
and only the stark-
ly analytic
is real.
Arithmetic, identity,
virtue, logic, etc—
what if
all these are
are the bricks
and the mortar—
the internet,
water, heat, garbage,
and electric?
And the warmth
I can feel
in the palm of a hand
is the only way I'll
ever understand
true acceptance—
or the sound of my
boot soles on
ground is
awakening—
or this city's sidewalks
are my church?
