I am corking bottles,
\nbugs, sunshine, dirt.
\nFive minutes of time
\nthat ran sublimely,
\ninto a bottle,
\ninto the cellar
\nwhere I will store the world.
\nKeep the DNA of poems intact.
\nCover the last few drops of rain.
\nA cellar from which
\neverything can begin again.<\/p>\n
I\u2019m corking sounds of voices
\nnot on record,
\nfull of sweat and air and salt.
\nInto a bottle,
\nheartaches and birthdays,
\npollen from every flower,
\ndandelions included.<\/p>\n
Into jars crammed under stairs,
\na Noah\u2019s Ark of atoms,
\nof paradigms,
\na pinch of night,
\na spoon of dawn,
\nnothing excluded
\nuntil I run out of corks
\nand bottles,
\nand everything\u2019s labeled
\nto be opened
\nwhen time has ended,
\nwhen the world succumbs
\nand is no more.<\/p>\n
Except a cellar of dimensions
\nhidden in parallel time
\nwhere someone
\nwill pull a cork out of a bottle
\nand find it sweet and scary
\nand superb
\nand everything can start again
\njust as it was
\nwhen I put it in a bottle.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
I am corking bottles, bugs, sunshine, dirt. Five minutes of time that ran sublimely, into a bottle, into the cellar where I will store the…<\/p>\n