In the time
of a thoughtful, bearded lecture,
for a moment
I saw the clarity
of chaos
behind the
pacing of the speaker,
and the
small crowd of souls
unrestrained,
and I wondered about
mining carts.
mining carts.
Would we suffocate? Could we
handle the
tangle of arrows?
A blue fuzz
powdered and
consumed his head
and spread
over my vision.
I had to
look away, flinching,
to hang
desperately onto this sight.
Clustered cosmos
all sitting
in a classroom
listening
politely, quietly,
violently shaking,
and the blue
consumes the room,
then settles
into a quiet hum,
then
dissipates into the words that once again
fill the air and take away my attention.
