Postcard unto a glint of lightspeed
Little pinprick, little leaklight: so much dissipates in the wake; so much accumulates in a delay. A wink become a nova become just another patch of darkness. The wind was up a little today and I was watching a flake of mica vibrate, a loose tooth-filling aching to free from igneous pebble, and its little dance was brighter than the sun – if reflected, if minuscule – and I was watching a single iridescent insect wing flashing rainbows, veined and brittle, a little plastic smudge of oil – the greedy vestiges of little black bulges that spin webs and crystals and leave them.
Jacob A. Bennett
lives and works in Philadelphia, where he teaches rhetoric, poetry, and
literature. Links to CV, other poems, and various well-intentioned screeds
published at: antigloss.wordpress.com