Critical Theory

The poem as trick pony rooting in a feed bag full of truth

The poem as wonder cabinet stocked with whatever was close at hand

The poem as celestial tinnitus, transmissible as sniffles

The poem as a bottomless measuring spoon dunked in a sea that drains into it endlessly

That sea a lunar sea of liquid shadowplay, Mare Cognitum

The poem as crack in the childhood sidewalk emitting the same fumes that quickened prophecy in the cave at Delphi

The poem as the orange rinds, cloves, and putrescent roses filling the beak of the plague doctor’s mask

That plague a plague of numbness, buboes abulge with unbearable blah

The poem as riddle that refuses to rotate, insisting the reader do a headrush handstand to read its answer

The poem as a drill with which poets perforate their bones into flutes for strangers to play

The poem as a 3D printout of a point in time

The poem as ski-pole pointillism pocking a self-portrait into the snows of Mount Kailash

The poem as the mating call of an extinct newt’s ghost basking under a new moon

The poem as Tristan da Cunha, the place farthest away from every other place

The poem as stainless steel instrument that breaks the jaw to fix the bite

The poem as two-way retinal scan distinguishing artificial intelligence from intelligent artifice

Do we see each other, finally

Can we meet each other yet