continuum

there is no better advertisement
for infinity or eternity
than the stretch of existence
between giving up on
turning your back on the night
(the sigh, the tired sweep of the face
across the pillow, the electric blue
screen reappears in the dark)
and the symbolic, defeated fuck-you
to the night as it's already
dying into day anyway.

the a/c unit hums
as electrons course antipositive
to the current
spinning and ricocheting
around nuclei
which push back
feeling their oats as "permanent"
bits of charge and matter
having heard they're the building blocks
of everything so many times
they've begun to believe themselves
fundamental creators.

coursing off uncorrected out a wire
below a man shuffling down the pavement
spinning, ricocheting down the street
who may be shot tonight for the color of his skin
or the color of his shirt
or the name in his wallet
and they all ricochet around
acting like they're more than
action-reaction
and conservation of the way things are.

it's all fleeting
in the long run, of course
but it's the most
the mind can handle.