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Objects of the Visible Language

           Do you believe in the once indivisibility of atoms?

The arranged ruins of planetary lights?

                                                                                    The core of the planet was several 

                                                            in the mind of the australopithecine.

                                    Consider the astral cataloguing

DNA Mad Scientist.

                        One million dollars sure buys a lot of simulation!

For hidden deep within the spiral code

                                                of the imprisoned green mountain 

                                                                                    beats the anti-solstice arsenal.



                        Stitch stitch the requirement if the species is to propagate.

And when the hypercube collectors go to auction …

                                                                And if the eyespot locus in your palm …

Others choose the tropic within.

                        Do you know who built that little pyramid of dreams 

in your head?

                        What about that quiet machine you own

                                                                                    that peels back the separatrix

                                                                                    boundary from the giant’s eye?


                        I strive to crack and vaporize the medium, leaving behind a replica 

                                                            of its route—

                        We are used to the converse: water and hills, apples drop. 

                        We are often provided a formalism in which the patterns


                                                                        chaotic, which is non-periodic,

                        and when the system becomes overwhelmed with choices

                        the medium dissolves, repeating the route of its future 



                        Imagine each and every grain of sand is x-rayed somewhere 

                                                                                               on the surface.

            When I first saw you

                                                I ran forward are there edges on that?

                        As a result, the body of evidence for gradient fields proliferated. 

                        The arterial tree-like structure of the lungs that didn’t quite exist. 

                        As if the world I claim—high up—does the break of symmetry 

                                    dream even there? 


                        The hardened fire of natural opal is all color and solace and candor.

            I remember the wood’s

                                                gypsy circles 

                                                                        in deep time 

                                                                                                and without dimension—

                        Is such fluxus geology appropriate for this situation? 

                        Between the eye and its rock star fractal, straight into the future!

                                     Observations at no atomistic level in all one sees.


                                    Since only by way of counterpoint can I build an invention

                                                             to measure the behavior of everything


                        Have you thought the slope to be steeper

                                                            where the periphery disconnects?

                        Where the clock’s second hand shoots through

                                                the heart of the star—approaching 

                                                                        more temporal RNA, please: 

                                    shifting the glossolalia in my blood.



                                    “They were cloaked, like silhouettes.

                                    They were glad to see me.

                                    They indicated that they had had contact with me 

                                    as an individual before.

                                    They seemed pleased we had discovered this technology.

                                    I thought of how the South Pacific natives could see 

                                    only Captain Cook’s small boats, 

                                    and not his big ships, 

                                    until they actually climbed on board 

                                    and touched them.”

Amy Catanzano publishes poetry, fiction, and multimodal poetic theory on the intersections of poetry and science. An associate professor of English and the poet-in-residence at Wake Forest University, she collaborates with scientists and visits scientific research centers for her projects. These have included CERN, where she was a research artist with the ATLAS Experiment at the Large Hadron Collider, and the Simons Center for Geometry and Physics, where she was the inaugural poet-in-residence. She is the author of exhibited digital poetry; poems and essay-poems on poetry and physics published in venues such as CounterText: A Journal of the Post-LiteraryCrisis and CritiqueJacket2New American Writing, and Physics Magazine; and three books, including Multiversal (Fordham University Press), recipient of the PEN USA Literary Award in Poetry.