In my collection of gluons whose color adds up
to white:
a time the universe
was the size of a darkening
string; a quark,
an antiquark, red + antired, green + antigreen, or blue =
white. A glueball, really —Are there any infinities
left? Yes, yes, they still unload the crates
of Coca Cola in the winter
morning sunlight, some third graders’ milk cartons in blue
plastic bags waiting on the street corner.
What are they waiting for? (The trash
collectors.) I will have to eliminate them—the yellow
styrofoam lunchboxes stacked together, oily, glistening with history —Listen:
The earth together
with all its inhabitants, all demolished and not-demolished things is
out there
hissing.
