--after Michael Cross's "Sacred"
Monads from the sky and monads for the earth
Bird’s eye god’s of lucidity form quiddity open wide
Like the animal chewing we start from a system of ducts
And holes duets like the chirp of other worlds
Radically foreclosed, the box of your mouth
Not speaking in time, a prison disposes
One to this violence, the sudden appearance
Of neighbors made strange by these foreclosings
Each beholden to wear out his face the face
Of thought’s forfeiture, that a weapon is unlike.
We are this event, of conscience the sky
Opening to a stripe (*tsim tsum*) the vertical
Will a virtual zipper, making numerous the innumerable
Faces, the faces of other things, the sudden thunder
Above the lip of us, *Sinai* speaking the soft divide
Gathering the light to sing of whence we come
Holes folding holes, hands hands
The face burrowing slowly and suddenly
Emerging from under such images, thusly striking
Like fire illuminating an exigency of ones.
This series called grace, called sacred or divine.
The inhuman in men, another force, another falling.