where our howls remain

 

S T O R I E S   I N   T H E   T I M E   O F   A   P A N D E M I C

 E D W A R D   B U R K E   “strannikov”

 

 

galaxies stars beyond all count
quiet as a crucified god
quiet as any worshipt god
quiet as a universe beyond count.

no planet’s brakes through ether squeal
no planets whoosh through space or sky
—only in bubbled air is sound
that animals in place of quiet hear.

within this planet’s bubbled air
(our only home to hear home’s sounds)
the tumults of our fellow beasts
preferred to patient silence that awaits.

what shrieks our souls might howl (had we souls)
croak quiet in ambiguous throats.
from the substance of our bodies’ deeds,
we sense how we perish with this flesh:
our goodbyes began bruit years ago.

 

 

 

 

 

 


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