Relativistic space waltzing above
Time dilating
Length contracting
Cosmic lovers, energy and matter
Riding the fabric unfurling
Quantum world churning below
Time and energy
Position and momentum
Saboteurs seeking uncertainty
Wave functions crashing everywhere
-T. Weeks
(A response to “When I Heard the Learn’d Astronomer”)
The man sat alone
Quiet and dignified
Counting backwards
Under even breaths
Something will happen
He thought
Between numbers
Rolling upwards
Nothing happened
So he started over
Maybe this time
They seemed so sure
T. Weeks
(A response to “Thoughts”)
With strange creatures
On a wild planet
I’m an alien in space
Racing ’round a lonely star
Winking from the corner
Of a constellation rising
In another’s warm dark sky
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Germs”)
I don’t know much, I see very little
We all see something different
My little view makes me
If your God knows all and sees all
Then he can’t be sure he’s He
Or if he’s just the ghost of us
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Gods”)
An empty fridge is extra bright
No gallons three quarters gone
Cloud the flowering light
The wide space left by an open door
Frames a hungry face illuminated
-T. Weeks
(A response to “A Hand-Mirror”)
Of the majesty of men and women
Riding colt happy in a box since birth
On towards death and life and death again
All ride the horizon path
Inside murals exquisite glow
Each a facsimile of lands long past
Memories gilded to be memorable
Bright familiar static comfort
Outside cankered leaf-springs sing
Box bobbing over unplanned roads never repaired
Dynamic landscape tumbles past
Never to be seen again
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Europe [The 72d and 73d Years of These States]”)
There he is again
The Ghost Soldier.
Sun-baked byway native
Drifting in the wake.
Rusted leather grin
Creaks upward and down.
Toothless sentry
Nodding at his post.
I hurry past ignoring the tap
Of his empty-handed stare.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Book XX: By The Roadside”)
Never again! Proclaims the visionary
At last the perfect protocol
Every scenario counted
Contingency upon contingency it’s all here
One easy-to-read 70,000 page volume
Also available, this 100 page summary
In PDF if you like.
-T. Weeks
(A response to “After the Sea-Ship”)
There they go
Hollow-eyed aimless
Boxes in hand
For the last time
Out the door
Don’t stop don’t stair
Maybe just slow down
Steal a glance
They look like us
Could have been
What is lost?
A badge, a title, a W2?
Emails, to-dos?
Gaunt recognition?
Happiness?
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Patroling Barnegat”)
Rumble crack boom snap growl
The modest invitation rattles panes
Ozone gathers fresh and ominous
Brooding gray dark and darker
The first drop lands
Lost among the next million
Patter patter hisssssss
Answers the static percussion
-T. Weeks
(A response to “Song for All Seas, All Ships”)
Life Immense 