i live on small scales
where newton's laws don't apply 

as we were walking back to my house
dad joked (again) that he's waiting for
the last piece of skylab to
fall from sky & take him.
i don't think you should joke
about things like that when the sky
comes apart so easily. i spent
one night a few evenings ago
collecting pieces of hot rocks
in my pockets but they only burned holes.
i'm still letting them cool off
on the back porch. maybe it's parts
of skylab or just dead stars. i read yesterday
that there are small scales in which
newton's laws don't apply. they never
told us that in high school physics when 
we were learning about his laws of motion
by tossing marbles across the linoleum floor,
finding friction between our bodies
in the back seats of cars & the grass
behind the school yard,
would you like to be objects in
rest/motion with me? if i stay here 
i'd like to see how long it would
take god to reach down with his science
& move me. i'm imagining the locations 
immune to newton & hoping that there's
a possibility that we could make a life there.
did you know skylab was essentially taken down
by a micrometeorite? what if that was one
of us, knees tucked into your chest 
as you orbit the earth & wait
for you blood to spill out from a puncture wood.
if skylab is falling i won't let it hit
dad, he'd be getting off too easy. i need
his red van to help me move all my 
stuff to these small scales. for all of newton's
smarts i think maybe he lied about the laws
to throw us off the trail of these places 
where they can be escaped-- he wrote
on alchemy you know? who wouldn't look
for the philosopher's stone if they knew it
was out there turning all medals into gold
like how i learned to become beautiful &
still in the presence of his hands. there
are objects that refuse to move, like the park
benches despite the flooding that march
where we charted the orbits of imaginary planets.
oh this place i'm making has no doors but
no way in or out-- a library where
the books are in a constant state of falling
& getting back up on their shelves. 
dear dad, i caught the last piece of sky lab
last night when i came down in the body
of a firefly. our very own sir isaac newton
was probably a fag like me, did he think
that alchemy could turn him pure?
this place is for people like us 
who want to move & stay still at once.
the saturn V rocket is taking off from 
my shoulders-- micrometeorites smouldering
across my forearms. dad, we can take
butterfly nets & catch shards as the sky comes
apart, one clavicle, one elbow, at a time.