Dust (poem)
Dust
Dust clots on table ends
A hiving manufactory within
Colluding by concealment
Iota by micrometer rebukes
The rag itself devolves to lint
A cry in code descends in sweat and skin
And bakes a cake in corners left unclean
Its cumbrance plods uncounted
Yet to be sure
Fatigued and overladen and uncaring
Along moldings under beds
Year by year dust
Should rise and overthrow us in our sleep
But vanishes with a snap of electricity
Dust is the planet’s great commodity
Frictioning with kinetic energy
And all around modest transactions fill the air
We have never thought worth seeing
Frayed at the cuffs and stained down the front
Your house was a chest of drawers
The legs that held it upright
Severed when it landed where it fell
The intersection’s traffic blares and merges past
And you cocooned in the toe of a sock
Littered with insect husks
Old silk hankies with their off-color perfume
Didn’t see until the light seeped through the cracks
We swim in a current
The current is a solvent
We are shaken and dissolving
Into dust
Dust
Buy Beast on Amazon
(2015, Stephanie Foster)