Ev­ery­one Is Noah

The Iowa Review - - FRONT PAGE -

Di­ag­nos­tics breached, she swims out­side her sci­ence. The char­nel in­stant-upon-in­stant be­gins to oc­cupy ev­ery frame. The fu­ture is no longer lim­ited to pre­vi­ously doc­u­mented na­ture-footage necrop­oli. Even her most in­tu­itive sen­sa­tions are now only car­casses of an­i­mals she finds in dreams, though she still calls for them, away from the dis­con­so­late daily weather where mean­ing gath­ers its poor like­nesses. Will she still hear a low whis­tle singing into shape the next ap­pa­ra­tus she thinks of as a world? Dy­ing grasses are thick with in­sects soon ex­tinct, send­ing their mat­ing songs into the air she cau­tiously grazes and that her dead heed­lessly graze below.

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