1. it’s hard to deny
we’re moving quickly
to love
when the
thought of you
summons a fierce tingle
from the depths,
like the threat
of the kraken
or worse–
christmas.
two belongs,
but not too.
‘two’ feels good,
‘too’ feels scary.
to ‘two’
and not to ‘too’,
that is the object.
for, after all,
momentum is relative to the objects in question.
doesn’t that sound like science?
2. if you’re on a train,
do you feel it?
on a bullet train
in tokyo,
do you feel
the plane above you
plummeting to the earth?
does a fly feel a motorcycle?
or just the passing
of the glorious
wind?
does the fart of an old man
blow an ant off course?
and does
the ant’s wife
blame him?
everything’s good,
fishbowl.
we two present
the evidence of
our happiness,
a sacrifice so you’ll leave us to it.
3. it’s difficult
to tell
when and where
a poem exists,
and why and who
the poet is.
some words summon the dead,
others deny
current life.
in the quest
for autonomous,
anonymous
submission,
the poet fails.
Sarah Farnham 