The Varying Constant by Alejandro Escudé


Watching it all unfold; the snowy-haired lawyer

and the trees outside with a goldfinch in them,

I sense the beginning of the universe with its

faster light, and the cosmic horizon. Ashamed

I stare into my phone waiting for the chime,

but time floats away from me, putting more distance

between myself and its gallant, square windows.

A full moon caressed by clouds in a lavender sky

framed by jacaranda trees. June gloom and everyone

ensconced at their local bar, everyone has a local bar,

watching the theatrics of government. As I shower

I see two black phoebes huddled close outside

the window. One flies, and I feel good and towel off.

My body has stopped waiting for it too. I recall

I thought I’d meet a woman as a student in Rome.

But I was lonely in Rome, and a shopkeeper yelled

at me for pissing in his unlit bathroom in the dark.


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