even the static statue

Photo by Ben Kerckx. CC0/Public Domain license.
Photo by Ben Kerckx. CC0/Public Domain license.

even the static statue of fat smiley Buddha claims its own wavelength
(an individual pulse in a pitch unhearable by all but wasps and
like a color beyond visible—a gamma
or an infrared—) and emits vibrations with steadiness—
a frequency
of its frequencies—and nonears celebrate at those silences
with unrhumbas and antisambas danced with utmost precision by marrow
and grist or gristle and a desire to whistle or hum or drum overtakes a poorer drone
as its placid pace mutes along a commute tomorrow

Categories Poetry

Pamela Hobart Carter loves Seattle as much for its water and mountains as for its bustle and creativity. She explores the Emerald City daily while walking her dog. Carter used to be a teacher who wrote on the side. Now she is a writer who teaches on the side.

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