A Person Unwinds Like A Top

by Matthew Kenneth Kosak

These are nothings really

Just visions, the carbons of reality

How simple they are.


A person unwinds like a top

along a rope

Taught between two trees.

His motion flickering to and fro, like the ends of

The last bits of the flame

That reach, (balance) across the autumn plane,

‘Forth through time, extending

Between the existences

The times of yesterday jumps and hops

The back’s and forwards’ from today’s, and tomorrow’s,

Hot on these steely pages, fresh, crackling, with the vivid real

snow in the receiver, a sparkle in the eye

See the motion in everything, as a heated thing vibrates, in heat,

Translated in its motion, from a collection of the infinitesimal, the invisible hands

From time culminating, from purpose converging, from the tiny vibrations

Moving as one inside,

her body now in a kind of dance

I wonder if she knows it

How simple it really is

This response.




© copyright 2012 by Matthew Kenneth Kosak


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