Art of Evolution

now is air and 
being human
	speech

and so it isn’t small (when 
at first delicate 
signs of life) we 
speak into being what 
	doesn’t exist

word, not bone
thunder or 
magic seed
but great blue-green 
sweltering miracle 

because all life is 
assembled as  
	wreckage
explodes first, then
radiates its 
nearness like the sun

mind in a skull-box
mind as an open ring
two eyes looking too 
	closely at satellites
first failed 
bridge to another life

not gods, but
apparitions
not teeth, but
stone


6 thoughts on “Art of Evolution

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