An unfinished poem I wrote a while ago to accompany an art piece I did
If you touched your palm
to the floor, I wonder if it’ll be splintered
by the ground beading up and rounding
around your fingers.
Exuberant particles by the masses
leaving tarantula trails on your ring finger
If you pressed your ear
to the door, will your attentions be drawn
to the tinkling of an abstract orchestra
anchored to a distant solar system?
Or will the sound of silence deafen you
If you were fatigued and overwhelmed by a sudden spell of nausea and an instinct
to lean against the walls,
how much time will elapse before
the tree branches root your
feet to the ground they stand on?
How can you stand it?
– Tiffany Chu