The Cooled Dynamo
"Is the (3 + 1)-d nature of the universe a thermodynamic necessity?"
for Sundin Richards
On a May
morning the cruelest
is not April my friend
you said the campus
O girls
you harbingers of
sun's tides
the white fabric spread
not 3+1 but 3.1415+1
that 1 a nutshell
sprouting infinity
who should be surprised
that the curve of worlds
a raindrop's skin
the womb at twenty
and the world attuned
to the springtime
motions
of its possessor
should share
that mysterious anchor
at the center
of a circle's spin
and its orbiting inheritors
the Rastafarian irises
slumped across the sidewalk
the roses dozing like dowagers
across a picket
peeling in this
adopted city
turning out its less well-kempt
O May this morning
sun rising through a soup of light
the clouds a
way to drain
night's cold gleaming
you my friend
who hung
your weight
from the bathroom door
back of which
held on a hook
Rob Roy bathrobe
you wore two decades
of cigarettes
your ablutions
your way to shave
hanged to evade