If my body is to be flung out

in undiscerning clumps of energy

and if it is to become some new chemistry

some fertile bit of old-rot earth

some poison plant in an old man’s yard

some wart enraging the purity of a foreign hand


and if these transformations are to be

exploded at planet’s end

and filtered through time and space of no dimension

and contracted into the smallest particle of a new star’s aureole


if my body

my actions, perceptions, emotions

are to be dissipated so

transformed by one intersection of chance forces colliding


if I am to continue

unknown and unknowing

within innumerable vortices of bodies or vacancy


why should I not

in this present gushing moment

become the brief identity of another’s energy?


Copyright Timi Townsend 1972, 2016. ย All rights reserved.