A man struck twice by lightning advertises his body
as a tourist hotspot.
Oranges glow with the heat of a child’s first words.
A newscaster mispronounces the name of a city.
Who dipped the bottles on the window sill
into the sky’s blue river?
Fire burns a whole block of lives.
Herbs chant in the seven languages of silence.
Memories fade like footsteps on a scale of stairs.
When physicists read the score of the universe
will the equations crescendo to an answer?
Or will the blueprint unravel in infinite directions
x’s and y’s drifting across space and time,
random as lost notes?
Lori Lamothe's poems have appeared or are forthcoming in Blackbird, failbetter.com, Linebreak, Psychic Meatloaf, SHAMPOO, St. Sebastian Review and other magazines. Her chapbook, Camera Obscura, is available from Finishing Line Press. She keeps a blog at Diary in Irregular Ink.