Dennis Hinrichsen: [Toast with Honey and Cold War on It]

as I feast so I am feasted upon by what I ingest // mouth
chewing hard // sucking marrow // sips and great gulps
of air working me like an ocean wave // fission and
fusion happening all at once // all the sweet liqueurs //
flesh-atomique // there’s cesium in the honey now—
even after all those half-lives // Castle Bravo rising
like a golden hive // tier on tier // a thousand Hiroshimas
so it has to rain down somewhere—infinitesimal haikus—
now pollen—bees haul mindlessly to the comb // then frames
spun // the sluiced gold jarred raw // —and so this slice
of morning toast awaiting its half-heaven unguent // the clarified
steady mind that is fixed on god // i.e. // that is butter
(not brain) slowly melting // then the honey slathered // cinnamon
(but not too much) spoon-tapped until it rains (reigns) beautiful dust


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