THE LIVING OPTION

Having crawled from the desert

of the 1970s already greying a little, impatient,

with physical inconsistencies, crying

bosons and fermions, crying out

the four forces, calling the unified

from the unnamed wastes, it saw in our homes

a vacancy, began repurposing the furniture.

Already it seems never to have been otherwise.

When I think of it my atoms are as the weakening

euro, the housing bubble, too many parts

in search of the one part, it’s a joke.

It’s a giant scientific instrument outside Geneva.

An argument that knows not me

or my siblings, that has no dominion

over me yet enters my thinking

and undermines it. Then all of my theories

seem raised by the state, fearful,

acting out inappropriately.

                                               I went to see you

on an airplane and on an airplane

was I medicated amid the transatlantic

generation and its complimentary

beverages. People of the light

flying over the living waters. My body,

belted in, a joke, and the heap we call

a mind also, each atom an engine schematic,

a backup system sequence or a prayer

from childhood though I’d lost my faith,

that’s how weak I am.

But in the cockpit, threefold,

the Great Invisible Virgin Spirit was incorruptible

in my sedation and in the cabin

the new cashless society

and off the wings degrees

of freedom.

                     No patterns emerged

between us, it was new

each time, each event its own, with fresh

odds. We honoured the principle.

Though our creditors didn’t see it that way.

They filled our past

with their notices. Their notices

were our bridesmaids. When I think of it

all my atoms are past-due notices

but with the option to consolidate as one large

debt. The market writes its autobiography

on minds and bodies, my own and those

of my siblings. Are we not innocent

with respect to it? Our credit rating is

a joke, our homes venture with us

through the rental agencies.

                                                  We went west

before the west dried up. Between Calaway Park

and Dead Man’s Flats the cumulonimbus

extended their funnels, melancholy

and inquisitive, they love

the earth so much. Long-haul truckers,

shepherds of product, blew past

on deadline into the storm, tweaking

in their cabs, each cloaked in his machine

with a handgun for an angel

in the lots and roadside pullouts.

If you can’t see it, it has

the advantage.

                          If you can’t see it,

it’s philosophy. A game between us

and the nature of things. People of intent in the valley

of the shadow of. One hundred metres underground,

a divine heart races in the apparatus

and soon we will hear its voice. It will speak out

from the invisible orders not as an attribute,

a quality or quantity, but a truth perfected

in all the ineffable places. A live

hypothesis. A supersymmetry.

Is it possible to love something like this?

I prayed it might happen to me.