October 2022 Flash Lit #10 - Touchless Everything

Six Impossible Things Before Breakfast, or Physics for Poets

 

1.     Seeing around corners.

Waves of light lap on

different shores

a susurration in blinks.

The scale of it all,

so small,

makes for fun-house

distortions.

 

2.     Where am I?

No one knows except

when I am at rest,

and really, when is that?

In my sleep, I may

swim, or fly, or explode.

 

3.     That cat.

There has to be

something better to do

with the time

than to put

imaginary cats in boxes,

or hats, or whatever.

 

4.     Speaking of time.

I guess I’m glad

we have a Spandex

universe, because

sometimes it’s Thanksgiving

and we need more room.

But somehow

it always works out

to infinite math class

and no jam today.

 

5.     And when time becomes matter.

A whole other kettle

of quarks.

It’s impossible

for things in this

universe to touch

without fusing.

Contact is an illusion.

 

6.     But love.

Somehow, in

the order becoming chaos,

in the spinning

probability of galaxies

and the spirograph

paths of electrons,

we manage, in fact,

to love each other.