SUNS: Space, Before Haiku, 2019
Hove: Something a Bee Had
I fell down tonight due to sadness. I was a zombie like you were when the car rammed your eyes and smashed your ankle. I wept. Right into the conversations that were all around like nervous darts, not landing, each of the eaters snapping and chewing the air around their skins, like dogs to the flies, to the glass, to the swatter. The bees were busy diving into the navels of towering flowers, their brains, plopped on top of a wild design, solving the fractions of zen. We have these brains underneath our skins which are dotted like strawberries, but with holes and hair and grease oozing out. We fall down out of nowhere when we are thinking the collective thoughts of fear. Our brains actually break our bodies, and they begin with the back of the heart, that looks at the front of the spine, which feels like the opalescent insides of any common shell. It starts there, I just know it. If we could just experience headlessness, we would feel so different, so natural and beautiful and useful.