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