Eight Minutes After First Sight
I. Eight
Turn infinity on
its end
to make a figure
eight: magnetic orbits twist,
emitting flares of deadly light.
II. Minutes
Eight times sixty, counted twice:
by the conscience and the clock.
Warning klaxons stab
the seconds mercilessly—
sitting ducks—
III. After
After several immolations,
scientists determined why.
Atmospheric degradation
boring holes into our sky—
magnetospheric atrophy—
IV. First
Burning outbreaks
in the tropics
taught us to use telescopes,
so that flares will trigger countdowns:
fighting chance to flee the zone.
V. Sight
Her rearview mirror caught
the wicked fate of those behind:
unable to escape on foot,
squirming hot—
burning blind—
Breaking Ground On New Derinkuyu
I. Breaking
The international order dis-
integrated shortly after at-
mosphere’s ruin became
undeniably apparent—
beyond propaganda—
II. Ground
Realization’s ripples offered
those of means an early start:
army bases, corporate vaults,
quiet bunker billionaires;
sharing paranoia’s plans—
III. On
Segments of the Internet
began to disappear:
melting cables, ruined servers,
unresponsive satellites;
information’s severed light
IV. New
A window, merely years,
to organize and build—
riots and survivors laying
claim to what they could;
preparing to exclude—
V. Derinkuyu
We are not the first
to be driven underground.
Catacombs proliferated
more than once—
a cycle makes—
Dreaming Beyond This Hardened Plane
I. Dreaming
I turn loose my slackened eye,
until it registers—the grain—
until the texture leads
me out: lucid exit
from this skin.
II. Beyond
Long before encirclement,
my roots descended
into song—fertile layer
waiting just beyond the senses
(through their door)
III. This
This is unlike any other
This is what we’ve made with blood
This is where it must unfold
This is reason’s terminus
This is shaped the only way
IV. Hardened
Catacombs for windows: twisted
lattice—structured blood—
death repurposed—as a shell—
sediment accumulates,
covering the song—
V. Plane
Corners make a surface
into dangerous terrain:
absent exits—no release—
predatory affects circle
into active form.
— D.W. Baker is a poet from St. Petersburg, Florida. His work appears in BRUISER, Voidspace Zine, Black Glass Pages, Version (9) Magazine, and BROKEN ANTLER, among others, and has been nominated for Best of the Net and the Pushcart Prize. He reads for Variant Lit and Philly Poetry Chapbook Review. See more of his work at www.dwbakerpoetry.com.