I miss the simple things.
The way the moon was formed
from a planetary collision,

for instance. But that’s
just a theory, as good as
any other theory, if we’re

discounting the fact that no
theory holds up to scrutiny,
unless it’s not a theory.

I have a theory of poetry,
it is a statement without theory.
That is why there is no poetry.

There is only the moment
when the season becomes inevitable,
and long slumber succumbs

to the instant you recognize
the sky as your home, or
at least the place you come from,

if not the eternity you’re returning towards.