Mitosis Lullaby
a poem by Robert Evory
I’m exhausted of sleep. My highway
. of nerves
slowing. The moon pitches light
. behind
atmosphere’s curtain. A sun explodes
. and a little girl
learns to write the letter a. My cells
. are dividing
on their own, thank you,
. though my spine
is crooked. Atoms in my
. eyelids
increase their gravity. A wave
. of conversation
uncircles earth losing its sign,
. becoming lost.
There is very little worth saying
. and hardly
any air to stand on when blood
. backs up
in the volcano. A tiny burst
. when the nucleus
loses an electron, when two circuits link
. in the brain.
Every day I lie to myself. I keep
. that secret
for the promise of splitting
. again,
with every word sung.