things are queer
by David Banach
wavering at the borders trembling shadows of leafy fingers
in breezes edges sparkle dapplings outlines blending and entering
each into other and everywhere you look boundaries between
things shudder and blur where does earth end and where your
bodies borders where the other and where you drawing things in
pushing them out permeable and perforated like all natural
things even atoms when you look close enough vibrate
among p r o b a b i l i t i e s never quite this or that so look
at cloud bodies swell and intermingle light loving to poke through
reflected color pink and blue buzzing your brain screwing itself
into you never content flow and flux rule everywhere but in
the human mind fear-flexed white-knuckled fingers clinging
to binaries but love takes its queerness from the very fabric of being
seeing selves in transition eating otherness and offering up its all.
David Banach teaches philosophy in New Hampshire, where he tends chickens, keeps bees, and watches the sky. He has published poems in Symmetry Pebbles, Hare’s Paw, Please See Me, Poets' Touchstone, and other places. He also does the Poetrycast podcast for Passengers Journal, along with Andreea Ceplinschi.