‘I am convinced that in the case of gases, we are

really dealing with discrete mass points of definite

finite size which move according to certain

conditions.’

- Albert Einstein (1900)

Here is a note abstracted

from a hunger-song;

it stokes itself as it wavers

between silence and a scream.

Here is a knot of breath

I have of the world--

unseen and weightless

in my cupped hands.

The Counterman

Mornings are pickled, impatient.

The bell never stops ringing.

The knives clink to be sharpened.

The glasses tinkle like frozen birds.

All mouths and no eyes,

the dinner plates scream:

Mayo on the bun, salt on the sun,

pepper on the periphery.

Photograph of an Australian Aborigine in the Swamp

He has two hands--

one to hold the world,

one to balance it.

Now, his right arm

is poised mid-air.

The spear he grips

is diagonal to the earth,

its arc of descent, premeditated.

One sudden zing to cut the air,

to impale the fish.

Yet the man remains still, waiting

for the moment to strike.

Photograph of the Sicilian Viaduct

Through the hills and folds

of rocky terrain, a straight

contraption of reinforced concrete

resembles a whip on a penitent's back--

taming the land

by passing through it.

Copyright © Khristine Ong Muslim, 2008