There are more people alive now than there
are dead in the earth, an article says. I keep
telling myself to invest in entropy, or at least
in defining it. In contending with it. Decom-
position is a performance of exponential
dignity. An act of stripping what life worn
fabrics perforate the borders between lyric
and magic. I want to step out of my language
and light up, but the body is a container
the body is a mold, I fit snug; I can barely
breathe in here. Leave me, I’ve got to count
the dead in here. I’m an atom, and I’m new
to the water, I got born by expanding, I get
born every day: My flesh is so damn raw with
all this entering.