Dara Wier

Lightning on Jupiter

Everyone in the streets is thinking

there goes a sequence
of words

something gets said
an idea occurs

one has to act
because one wants to know

the action
that follows always follows

all of the previous acts
everyone driving their cars can’t help

but be referring back
in order to come

to some searched for sense
as is often the case,

and the result and the duty
and the violence

and the torn down ruthlessness
and the hidden brokenness

cushioned,
as a blistering scathing broken brain

made whole again
the desperate and the realized

everyone walking through the malls
explores the explanation

not the outcome
not the unexplained original

whose presence rarely lasts as long as we’d like
everyone passing over the airport terminal’s moving sidewalks in our darkest hour

in a time when
stopped dead in our tracks

we lose consciousness
and we are newly no one,

everyone is being brought back to life
it may take weeks, months,

it may take years
it may never happen

we may never return
everyone like courageous ants

we are, everyone breathing particulates
we pull out of thin air

everyone insistent buzzards
hovering over, like little drones,

over shining corpses
like some always previous sense of order

 
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