If This Is the Age We End Discovery

Rosebud Ben-Oni

• Publisher: Alice James Books
• Year: 2021
• eBook ISBN: 9781948579490
• Topic: Literatur
• Subtopic: Amerikanische Poesie

A fascinating blend of poetry and science, Ben-Oni's poems are precisely crafted, like a surgeon sewing a complicated stitch. The speaker of the collection falls ill, and takes comfort in exploring the idea of "Efes" which is "zero" in Modern Hebrew, using that nullification to be a means of transformation.

III.

Efes:

(1) Modern Hebrew for “zero”

::

(2) In mystical Jewish texts: “to nullify, to conceal”

::

(3) Poet’s proposal: responsible for Dark Energy, vampire bunnies & insomnia; insatiable lover; enemy of mathematics & elegant equations; Creation’s Twin; presents Nullification properties as possible Transformation (rather than destruction) of the quantum & the “real” worlds; reveals Itself at the singularity of a black hole; does not abide by any law; changes the riddle

POET WRESTLING WITH THE POSSIBILITY SHE’S LIVING IN A SIMULATION {INSIDE A SIMULATION}

Consider this a death & listen. In the showers we strip naked

{until there’s zero}. Gravity. & no stress but.

Its jaws. Are straining. Our necks. Consider this

bloodsucking. Alien. We can’t.

See. Buffering. You’re lying. On

top. Coming off. Our leash.

Mount. Moving. Neither of us. Can prove. A chance. Of relief. Run. Blood.

Thick. Boom. Bunnies. Extreme. Raging on the flame. As {flames}. Through

trees. Planets. Boreworms. Rings. How are there so few left as there are. So

many. I’m counting. High. Scores. Unbuttoning. & turning {extra}. Lives.

Into yours. Into a number taken. At a deli. Slicing off. An extra hour. That loses.

Its honey. Glazed. Rabbit. Meat moves in. On me. With sloping axe. & forest heat

{turning} glassy

eyes of smoked herring. Buckles the knees. Let’s get real about

this. Real is a disease. I left hours ago. A rabid animal is not so

bold. As a force with bones to grind. {& diseases that hide.} In

brains. Stuffed. & fur-lined. Could be. Hex or. Hatbox. Real is

taking a single train. Out of service. Out of control. The inferno

is really. A dot-matrix or dial-up. That exploded. Long ago.

We jeer at those. Still holding on. To joy. Stick. & control. Extinct.

& floppy. Eared-ones that still live & lean into. Ray tube. Ray

guns. & neck cradling each one. We think. We aren’t

{cassettes}

loading. Long, long ago. Our legends. Never shone. But trickled

off. Zero. Ticked. Against. A leg. Like a death. Sentence. Consider

this &. Listen. You were saying — I love you — More than. Just as.

Falling. Low-res. Do you wish to save. Your progress. What miracle.

You snap. Hard. My neck. Pixelated. Lock. Screen. Our clothes

wet as skunned. Animals. & dripping.

Will leave.

No off.

Spring.

{Still. In my ear.}Hold. God.

God Yes. Somewhere

this is happening

without intent

or making veins.

Of tails. Somewhere

{unnamed

& most} incapable.

Of dying.

{Somewhere.} Never. Somatic. Only.

Heat.

& Edges.

Wetter

{somewhere} ::

Gravity is a grave. That will win. Its. Hunting.

POET WRESTLING WITH DERELICT SPACECRAFT

—After Gematria

Before one what do you count. The c...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title Page
• Copyright
• Contents
• Dedication
• Poet Wrestling with the Possibility She’s Living in a Simulation
• I.
• II.
• III.
• {Post} :: Lude
• Acknowledgments & Notes