deterministic victory in a nondeterministic space
Great astronomers have lied to us
Sacristy, here. Thinking. Finches chirping on the wing beyond & something stirs. Interpolation, maybe. Particles in the air glowing for sure into color.
A call late in coming. Messages left for friends of the ancient long-ago. High tide rising - the sand has discovered a way to become water. Some kind of molecular chain reaction. An aggressive inversion of control: change one thing and the rest has already followed.
Great astronomers have lied to us. The earth is gaining speed. The sun swells in mass to maintain our pathetic little orbit, our globe of changing feeling. It keeps us warm with light and other waves.
Instructions guiding us to the object. Guidance for how to dig it out of the throat. Why not, says the spinner of strings, her eyes questing like those of a livid chameleon. Let the subject and object be codependent.
I am exactly the same. Every possible point of reference shifted a little to the left.
And then the fruit denatured. Sweetly bite fresh snow or the geriatric flesh of a desiccated tangelo. Calling in time to watch laden plates be taken late away.