Sunday, May 18, 2014

This Matter Exists, Like a Broken Window

I want to swim
in luminiferous
aether, backstroke
in lighter air
than real air,
float above
quantum vacuums
that fill empty
with perfumes
everyone yearns for,
because there's no
sensory wading
in aether single,
where gestures
remain uncertain.


  1. I like your title, Linda. It makes me imagine the whole poem as a meditation by someone in a room with a broken window and thin, cold air coming in.

  2. It's all an experiment, Daniel. Thanks!