slow energy
and energy
is fast matter,
then what
are we even
talking about?
Physics tells
what it does,
but can't say
what it is—
because
even whatness
is really something
else.
*
Our favorite books
are made
of poems, but
what in the world
are poems made of?
Us, I guess—
hot plosives,
rough edges,
and incipient glances—
and that's just
what we are;
what
were the chances?
