Inspired by “As Mister Rogers Prays to His Aquarium” by Ryan Patrick Smith
As the showers we imagine carry embers, as though galaxies jostle within a watering can,
as shards of opal run onto bundled petals, to unpeel each from its partner, as though even water splits
from its pool, from its gush, to melt onto the stamen, the pyre of hay within the peony,
as inhales and exhales only quicken the infection and the motion of Satan’s ashen blunt, sent airborne
to nudge the inner cream petals and inflame them, as though the water was only a parting gift, a final hit of the hookah,
before the embers in the water ready themselves to reassemble, as though all light, all galaxies, will reconvene in time,
before the damned sepal and stem catch fire and blossom a new flower, a whirlwind of bronze and ink, a whimper, a whistle of wind, an owl composes a new elegy, and a child’s toe cuts a fresh smile into the sand at the beach.
INSTANT NOODLES 