is mad, bowler askew,
black brim casting shadows
like knotty fingers
plunging Earth. Worms
divide, squirm into points: stars,
underground light. Seeds shed
their hulls, radicles are open
mouths spiraling echoes
to our iron-nickel core, screams
etching grooves in the meteorite
burning, turning, shining
beneath our feet.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 23, Issue 1.
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