Anna Maria Hong: The Copper Age
In the beginning, world stretched terribly
thin. World was wound about the wrist of an
ur-Cyprian who managed two valises.
The world was pure Copernican. The sun
felt weak. One case was made of teak and gas
boiled from the abysmal sea. The other
cached seven pairs of powdery, prolix
wings, which made the ring run ever longer
above the min’s expansive, vanishing arm,
itself drawn and ductile as desire.
A heat consumed and consuming formed
this elemental gyre within gyre.
The world would crack extravagantly spent,
a shining exemplar or ornament.