when did history become so thick
and fat you could no more find purchase
for thought or feeling on its moving surface
or in its soft back for your hooked head
and fingerholes than stand on soup or plot
the action in the atmosphere of each atom
on every other when exactly did it become
slippery so no one could gain a hold on
its heaving neck or break its horizontal rush
but only sink in without a single thing
sinking in to the limitless vertical depth
we are all of us in suspension still animate
carried on in aspic limbs congealed
with carrying on where we gesture with
one another our chins tip forward meaning-
fully eyes roll and brains progress on jellied
wheels from one thing to the next and back