The trouble is
|
a single atom
|
shot at random
|
random fire
|
two particles
|
fused and coupled
|
once united
|
multiply
|
the waves run
|
underground
|
electric power
|
copper wire
|
some tiny evil
|
bursts the surface
|
lays quiet like
|
insecticide
|
|
Slanted, the eyes
|
and this bonds mind to mind
|
the risk is mine
|
and this bonds mind to mind
|
|
She says a word
|
across the ocean
|
I hear the spit
|
I hear the sigh
|
the wavelength
|
undivided
|
to drain the fruit
|
and leave the rind
|
the shot runs
|
through her wiring
|
through her curve
|
through her spine
|
to feel an impulse
|
rising rising
|
a mess of reason
|
and kissing eyes.
|
|
-----------------
|
Bond
|
| Soul Coughing |
