Alan Gould: Kindling the Real Estate Pages

Kindling the Real Estate Pages

(Energy can neither be created nor destroyed.)

Igniting a journal’s pages,

the flames glow green.

No bytes or gauges

measure my scene

as polymers of print

soft-tongue the black

in reach and feint

on firebox back.

The Big Bang blew this thought,

atoms combine,

let all consort,

    not all will shine.

Closed systems and their perks

make lives from heat,

convert to works,

this strangest feat

to move, be pent or glow.

I am not zero

if cosmic flow

makes me brief hero.

A bloodline’s like a star,

it warms near-space,

will warm so far,

then ice its face

because its energy

must deal elsewhere.

So what is free

if nothing’s spare?

A people do their works

then turn their speech

into self-hex

to shrink their reach,

ignite a journal’s message—

tongues luminesce.

If all is usage.

what grows less?

                      Alan Gould