JOHNMICHAEL SIMON POETRY

1.

the sun is high

shouting over the world

wake up

you’re all brothers

 

and we open our eyes

brown or slanted yellow

children or wrinkled

 

2.

it’s coming closer

each little fish

every tadpole or gnat

that lives in this pond

makes its own tiny ripple

that shivers us

into a crowd of

jostling silver molecules

 

3.

all brothers

here in our mirrors

our touch-screen

libraries of babel

all shouting to each other

voices and pictures

a shimmering graffiti

quicksilver pond of souls

 

4.

until the next destroyer

dynamite stuffed

around his body belt

 

the next asteroid or virus

 

scatters us all

blind deaf and dumb

fleeing from each other

 

into solitary universes