The Fourth of July Through an Electron Microscope

Beneath it all, there's nothing,
Motion. Things will move
Because they must. The comet
Tumbles on in space. The cells
Divide. Their owners gnaw
Each other to assure they do,
And mate together: join,
Divide. Their minds will
Conjure pretty pictures:
Love; it's more than join,
Divide, and status, more
Than gnawing first, and
Self-regard for sacks of cells,
Which are no more than
Forms of motion, taking place
Within constraints, which
Range from orbit, axis spin,
To pecking order place in line
Beside a table bearing food
For Independence Day.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 40 times
Written on 2014-07-06 at 14:56

dott Save as a bookmark (requires login)
dott Write a comment (requires login)
dott Send as email (requires login)
dott Print text