Brent Cunningham

                                            from Journey to the Sun

                wherein the Author recounts his travels, at the tender age of Thirteen,
                     to the Source of All Life, accompanyied by his father’s employer,

       Mister George Westinghouse, and not neglecting the Author’s youthful opinions
                     on the matters of Publick Education, Poetry, and Messianic Time

Division 2, Section 8

infernal & argent airs
had now filtrated my cabin
even as I wrote
my Second & True Report:

that we have learned & fought
& built glass residencies
& out-smarted apes & pufferfish
comets & droughts & killer bees
& meanwhile endured the snows
of five tri-million winters
dispersed over five deviations
of pigs, sows, swine, hogs & piglets
w/ Every-thing eating & consuming the other
depleting our Innate Sparkling Humor
without rest or pity or break

mark well my words; they have travelled through space

& every season it looked down again
while They & We lived it out
not always caring if They or We did

shew us miracles!
shew us miracles!

I strolled its very own surface
I turned white & translucent
& moreover I saw
the root-like spores of men
ascending into pods
10 thousand nine Shuttles
swept out on golden winds
until only the starter-people

my friends—
my compatriots—
bloggers & neurotics—
the Closers of Earth—

really, what else can I do ?

Division 2, Section 9

thence I slept & thought
travelled & syllogized & smoked
& now and then a Cosm passed
then a third, then a ninth
every day a new new record

some of my thoughts were edifices
some were the vapor of lost people
trucks, computers & motels
rushing, breathing, exchanging & reasoning

but it didn’t much matter
for my replacement had gone on ahead
leading her illustrious & exalted Anti-lion
her most clement lord etc. the Anti-shark
down driveways & homes & offices
built by licensed & esteemed workers

yes, this all happened—
it happened on the Sun—

then is the Prince of the Sun a mathematician I asked.  no said George how could you be
so foolish as to think he was.  oh I did not think he was I said I only asked you if he was.
well why would you think he was not but still ask me if he was asked George.  well I said
I did not think either he was or was not but after you told me he was not I thought he was
not.  but if you never thought he was and you never thought he was not said George then
how did you even conceive the question.  it just came into my head I replied.  well he
said at least you are honest.

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