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.