56 everyday things, re-seen by a photon.
I leave the sun and I am the balloon, silver, letterlike, a great fat animal of foil straining its ribbon, and I am the sheen along its curve and the…
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the mirror ball, and I am nowhere, all at once, always.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the parking lot, all at once, no crossing between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the gravy boat, all at once, no in-between, the ceramic wearing a curve of white shine on its lip and me being that shine.
Read observation → The Photon KitchenI leave the sun and I am the rim of the mug, all at once, no in-between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI am born in the sun and I am underground, and there is no between.
Read observation → The Photon HomeI leave the sun and I am the frosted glass beside your front door, all at once, no in-between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the little candle on the table between them, all at once, no gap, no journey, and here they are, these two warm creatures,…
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the polished lid of the box, all at once, no crossing, just here.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the exhibition hall, all at once, no crossing between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the copper pot on her wall, and this is one thing, not two.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the whiteboard, the one with the dead marker ghosts on it, and I bounce off the glossy streaks and I am inside the eye of the…
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the frosted glass of your gym window, all at once, no in-between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the mirror, all in the same nothing.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the peeling paint on the porch rail, all at once, no crossing between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the vinyl armrest of a chair the color of nothing.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the bottle, green glass on the counter, sweat-slicked, and I am already the wet ring it left, and I am already the eye that…
Read observation → The Photon HomeI leave the sun and I am on the leaf, no gap, no journey, the green thing catching me at the exact instant the sun spat me out, and both are the same…
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am on the small brass thing pinned to her jacket, a little enamel pin shaped like a wing, and I am the shine that says she cares…
Read observation → The Photon HomeI am born and I am the wicker, all at once, the same white burst.
Read observation → The Photon KitchenI leave the sun and I am the little cave behind the glass, all at once, no distance between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the shiny paper stars, and both of those are now, the same now, no distance between them though they tell me there was a distance.
Read observation → The Photon HomeI leave the sun and I am the glass.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the sweat on a hundred backs, all at once, no sooner cast off than caught.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am on the drum kit, all at once, no gap, no crossing.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the strip of stuttering blue above the sinks, all at once, no journey, arriving.
Read observation → The Photon On youBorn on the sun and I am the leather, all at once.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the slat of a wooden bench, green paint peeling, and I am already gone into the eye of the woman sitting on it.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the puddle of oil under a truck, all at once, no crossing between.
Read observation → The Photon KitchenI leave the sun and I am your open refrigerator, all at once, the same as always.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the brass edge of a spinning door, all at once, no in-between, no eight minutes, they say there were eight minutes and I say…
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the flame of a candle in a dark room, all at once, no crossing between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI am born in the sun and I am the barcode on a can of soup, no distance in between, the whole crossing folded to nothing.
Read observation → The Photon On youI am born and I am already the tangle of small metal teeth on your counter, catching me, throwing me back at you, so you are lit and so I end.
Read observation → The Photon On youI leave the sun and I strike the long white curl of paper on the counter, and both are the same nothing-instant to me.
Read observation → The Photon HomeI leave the sun and I strike water, all of it at once, no distance in between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI am born in a bulb and I am the sweat on a stranger's temple, one instant, no crossing.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the sweat on her forehead, all at once, no crossing between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the screen.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am on the hood of the third car back, a red one, ticking with heat.
Read observation → The Photon KitchenI leave the sun and I am the glass of it, the tall lit box in the hallway, all at once.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the plastic rectangle in her hand, all at once, no in-between, and there is a small black window there and I land on it and…
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the ring, the ripple of gold light off the small circle they lift into the air.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the little green screen, all at once, no in between.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the mountain pose, the whole flight already over before it began.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI am born and I am already the terminal, the whole glass wall of it lit gray, the tarmac beyond still holding the last blue of a night I never crossed.
Read observation → The Photon HomeI am born and I strike the numbers red, all at once: 6, 0, 0, glowing on the little black box beside the sleeping one.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the button, the little disc that glows amber under a fingertip, and in the same breath I am the fingertip, and in the same…
Read observation → The Photon On youI leave the sun and I am on the black stretched dome, born and dying on it in the same white flash.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the glowing rectangle in your hands.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI am born and I strike the little glowing rectangle and I am the little glowing rectangle, all at once, no gap in me.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the window over the small crib, all at once, no distance in me, only arrival.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the window of the emptying room, all in the one flash that is my whole life.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the linoleum floor of the small bright room where the warm creatures wait.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the streetlamp and I am the bare bulb overhead and I am the wall, all at once, one white blaze across a room with nothing in it to catch me softly.
Read observation → The Photon Out in the worldI leave the sun and I am the going-away card, the glitter of it, the pen still shaking a little as the fourth signature goes down.
Read observation →