Oh, Earth, these blemishes

Oh, Earth, these blemishes
Can be scrubbed dead clean,
This unseemly infection stopped,
But to no avail, all the evidence

Points to the scabs bursting open,
Life pouring out again and again
In all its musty bigness,
The anti-entropic urge

Of the womb is doomed
To eternal resurgence

It’s not rebellion – nothing so seemly,
So ordained by high principle –
Just a thing impossible to stop,
A thing in a crack,

A seam in an ocean of atoms,
An imperceptible pause
In the continuous instant,
A suddenness within chaos,

How ice forms from steam
How fire struts across the built and unbuilt alike

How two disparate things join
Into a whole, unbegotten, unbidden.

Down at the deepest level, they say,
Things pop in and pop out
On less than a whim.

Swan song

How hangs the moon?
Its swells all aglow
contained in essences unguessed,
or unremembered.

How dies the sun?
Its fires all but claimed,
mortgaged to the teeth,
unable further to dim.

The stars still hold their own, it seems.
Orion still hunts the bear,
faithful mutt dogging his footheels,

bow at the ready, at least until
one or another of its strings
explodes across the sky,
uncontrolled, reckless.

If there’s a lesson in it for us,
mudbound, entwined, encoiled
in rumored codes, blind to the stipulations
of our own existence,

it will be told too late,
our gasps of recognition
insufficient to sustain us.

Just before the final extinction

Just before the final extinction
There were strange and wonderful creatures
Elusive slabs of silver
Darting through the water
Among shape-shifting bulbs
Trailing fierce limbs
And some barely-there whisps
Still deadly with near visible
Strands of poison

And the stone-clasping tendrils
Living dually beneath and above
The frothing rock wacked about
By unseen surrounds

Miniscule bits buzzing through the air
But strong enough to pierce the
Thick outards of others
To suck their vital fluids
Long bendy tails with no body
Slinking among roots and shoots
A mouth at one end and nothing at the other
Lumbering bellowing lumps
With long tusks
That dazzled white in the pristine sunlight

Oddest of all, a bipartite creature
Split nearly symmetrical
Nearly similar but cruelly not
Moving by alternating stilts
Spindly and unbecoming
The two halves bound in eternal embrace
Clutching each other’s throat
Desperate to let go
But trapped, trapped by fear of succeeding