1 
God twirled 
across the face of 
what cannot be named 
since it was not moving. 
God was momentum then, 
that impatience 
with interruption, 
stamping time's blanks 
with its own image. 
2 
Now her theme will be 
that she has escaped 
certain destruction, 
that she is 
impossibly lucky. 
This theme should be jaunty 
but slightly discordant, 
coming in, as it does, 
so late. 
The character 
associated with this theme 
should be dressed 
in markedly old-fashioned clothing— 
a hoop skirt perhaps— 
while everyone else 
is in cut-offs, 
ready for the barbeque.
                
...
                
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