303
poetry in the time of coronavirus
July is 4.37 light years away
happily, tomorrow always fails
to appear
Einstein whispered in my ear
that the past lies behind us, and
the future is the symbol for infinity
July is 4.37 light years away
happily, tomorrow always fails
to appear
Einstein whispered in my ear
that the past lies behind us, and
the future is the symbol for infinity
[RK, 12/7/2020]
Comprehension
I
carve out a niche of solitude
with four monitors, three keyboards
the passage of sunlight a vague blur
against a white plastic board
covering the December window
it
doesn’t make sense because
I
count
the blessings of the true landscape
surrounded with columbine, penstemon, desert lily
scrub oak, mesquite, palo verde, palo de hierro
pack rat, sparrow hawk, vulture, skunk
pottery shard, uta, agave, petroglyph
ocotillo, cholla, saguaro, all ladled onto
topographic maps of empty desert
that was never actually empty
[RK, 12/7/2020]
with four monitors, three keyboards
the passage of sunlight a vague blur
against a white plastic board
covering the December window
I
surrounded with columbine, penstemon, desert lily
scrub oak, mesquite, palo verde, palo de hierro
pack rat, sparrow hawk, vulture, skunk
pottery shard, uta, agave, petroglyph
ocotillo, cholla, saguaro, all ladled onto
topographic maps of empty desert
that was never actually empty
[RK, 12/7/2020]
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