electronic universe

how little light do i need?
i sell all the bulbs in the house
for moss. spread it even as jam
across the floor. a new carpet
of meal worms & wood. 
did you know there are 
saints who run all night 
to make sure the sun hatches 
at dawn? i see them outside
on their motorcycles. use a butterfly net
to catch them. put them in little terrariums. 
i just need one day where the sun
stays curled & caterpillar. 
give me the black forest cake. give me
the ink velvet. 
i have tried to swallow 
as much dark as my body will hold.
spoons & kings. the basement smell
of mold & decaying halos. 
walking down there with 
a single candle. little planet.
i plug in my face & wait for it
to want to eat again. let's not confuse
terror with love. love with hunger.
i am in hunger with 
the ceiling grease. we try to scrub 
our chickens clean. they turn
into doves. they lay dove eggs
each of which bears 
the bad news. little notes
with nothing but dates inside.
what do you think they could mean?
i am not as hopeless as it might seem.
i have a night light. i have
a god i used to pray to. 
now, i huddle with the other tangerines.
we take turns eating each other's 
flashlight glow.
i am never quite full enough.