Funny Business
A Special Edition of The East Village

Jack Kimball

Lying Close against the Ground

Quasars, quasistellar objects, are celestial art pieces beyond the
Milky Way. To you and me, the most remote look like snaps of hot,
messianic radiation, because our brains get scattered with hydrogen
(two atoms per cubic meter) which absorbs blue light ok, but when the
blue soaks there in the more celibate white, they're just infrareds.
Our handshakes wish they could go. Placid as I am, I'll put on all the
weights. Yeah, nao, on our billion-light year journey, my love,
needing a technique like flames, and using electromagneticism (the
same as digital cameras, charge-coupled devices instead of film), we
make the panorama of stars pass as the earth rotates. The resulting
'images' are streams of happiness that flow to us, others' of
galaxies, nebulae and far stars from each night's scan. And objects
with strong infrared we earmark: these may be isolated signals from
still others, also with devices, who follow.

   Pssst, he stood up (wearing lifts)
   and withdrew, juggling for something 
   like a matchbook in the rain.    

   That's Donne.  Should we vie, though
   holding just his hoots on a pine globe?
   Or was it Poe showering with him
   That temperature all over us like sea ponies
   in moot radar splashing sea moss across 
   whose conformity to soar?

   And talking of discontinuous, we meet in a song
   chalked off in diagrams propelled
   by fear of crowds

   Several atomizers of black mist
   and again the news of oil supplies
   shoes, shoes in the marketplace.

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