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the Earth
is movingthe kitchen
is movingboth are moving
relative to
each othermeanwhile
down in Houston
confidence is high
this year’s Nobel Prizewill go to a human
and not to an alienexcept that prize
for plays, poems, stories
which always
goes to an alien
(this being
just how things are)meanwhile in my
corner of the cosmos
my microwave is broken
openly mocking, laughing
at me because
I lack the physics
to fix itboth of us signs
of that residual energy which once went orgasmic
before time-space and its converse
which we also
had to invent