In Orbital Mirrors
David C. Kopaska-Merkel
I swallowed the mercurial net,
my veins a tree, mandrake-forked.
Listen! I hear my buds unfolding
& the sound echoes echoes
in orbital mirrors.
four or five synchronous satellites
broadcast the dreams of ancient mariners;
crinkled tinfoil protects tender shoots
from the hungers of humanity.
left/right DNA reversal:
Lepidopterous nightmare or transcendence;
are we truly unitary? are we conscious at all?
send that to the stars