Every insignificant thing
is now vital:

I feel a muon
pass through me

hear the pause
before a songbird loosens its throat –

each window
opens onto your face

& your I-beam blinks
forever

…

your paper cut
is a mortal wound

your spinning arms
are a distant pulsar –

your Bunsen burner
goes supernova –

the death of a star
is measured in months

…

do we waive the blame
or blame the wave?

two plumed white horses
& a glass-sided carriage –

…

a tiny blip
has become the world

a weak signal
the tocsin