Beautiful Noise

Dark Star

Next time we meet,

I'll crush that sphere of instants

Down till they ignite,

Down to a blazing star and

Past that:

Past mass,

Past luminescence,

Down to condense each atom,

Like vapor now solid,

And turn our time black.

Not the black of dead fire

But a new dark star

That consumes light and fire,

time, and our bodies,

pulsing in mad rotation.

Then we'll hang through that time like divers

stretched and frozen,

Our endless hands striking the sea;

Our bodies will spread like spilt oil

across that horizon

where time never passes,

hardly exists;

Our bruised fingers touching forever

black waters that conclude desire.

Not motionless,

Passing through threshholds of free flight,

orbit and crash,


Accelerating like glaciers–

not moving,

not motionless;

Dropping down,

Down into each other,

Each the other's dark star,

Set in a sky

with no end


with no beginning.

–October, 1981

Poetry Writing Dancing Badger