Paucity of Thought and the Consciousness of Lower Species
Kneel. Shut your eyes. What’s lost
bounces back. Thickens to a rock.
If you’re lucky
if you think
you’re human. Silicon-oxygen
a church laid out in space, for instance--
quartz out of so much paper. Bet a blue jay brain
it’s simple. Design.
The engineers of real
the half-remembered, third-recalled,
what ricochets out of time….
Stick to steps and line.
But to real-ize is to abstract a sum
from disparate wings—
a feather here, claw, air sacs, beak.
When it veers above you—not hard.
But difficult. Thought. Ethereal
as a Lyceum of Flight for birds is—
liquid as pouring concrete
is, boxing with administrators,
is, making numbers meet is.
It’s a bird bath.
Even if all you’ve got’s
one graphite stub, one T-square nicked on all edges,
a degree in landings where tough and disenfranchised
are the names of the tempo we live in—
Here, in glory of all its parts
is: lungs, air sacs, bones of
laces, pin feathers, mandibles,
crops, culverts, claws,
miasmas of brain--stores, counts,
seeds in places, scoring
of parts, reckoning air
in inches, feathers
To make it to human—
you have to win some race. The prize
is to measure
girth and weight. A brain. Then. Fathom
its yews, graves. Skeletons
of timbers, mortar tucked, cairns of stones.
Metal. Poured, cooled, beaten, dragged,
steadied, hoisted, hinged,
The sting. The fever. The flood-ness of.
For pity. The robbers.
Skins. Eyes. Poor.
Re-see a symbol, brain. See it.
It speaks barrier, brain.
Recall re-call as an act.
Frontier, perimeter, limit, stop. Knowing, knowing, periphery, stop.
Do you recall
it was glass.