The Other Everyday

The daze of death has come in truth: This is what you tried to evade

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The universes sit side by side

on a patchwork blanket

in a line that stretches the boundaries

of a word as empty as eternity, sharing

their cornucopias. Rich fruit

from the gardens of Italy sharing

a plate with the rich stars of a planet

three galaxies down. When you don’t have

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a body, the spirit blows through the town,

mingling with every level of living.

I know I won’t dwell, but I’ve always

wanted to travel, backpack through

the grand canyon or laugh

at Paris’s gray rain under the arches

of the famous tower. I didn’t know

about the slow, ponderous waterfalls

in the universe across town,

a flashy affair where space

competes with the clouds for attention—

it’ll rain sun drops as often as the usual drizzle.

Flowers that grow down into the earth,

roots curling like stone snakes.

And every sort of person imaginable,

aliens who could be my neighbors next door,

just people who touched down

on a different earth with a different sun.

Bring a picnic blanket and as many rolls

of film as you can carry.