Relevance is a question that bubbles up now and again. In an elevator packed with people, I sometimes wonder if they would read me; if my particulars resonate enough for them to remember. The doors close and open. At a party, I linger near the table of cocktail shrimp and dip, refill my plate, listen to revealing conversations around me. I try to do what our hosts say as they prowl the room—Enjoy! How to find space amid spheres of ever-shifting fractals, and how I want to believe no branch or starry bifurcation could ever be merely identical to the next.
Purveyors of fine poetry since 2003.
