The Names of Things, and: Understanding Physics

The Names of Things, and: Understanding Physics Michael Rogner (bio) The Names of Things Who are these purple flowersjust now etching scant lineson the dust paper glass? If I concentratethe name will arrive or maybe if I don'twhich is always the great decision.My beloved you do not care about my fading mindor at least when you turn your brown reflectionyour eyes spill rings for me to grasp. Each dayyou remind me how in this mapped landof fast machines and loud noises we all arriveto find something familiar. It is likethe tiny native bees which climbinside the purple flowersloaded with their golden gauchosto vibrate how scientists refuse to say happily.You have to look slightly to the sideto see them. I want to give you one beebut like many wishes this is beyondmy skill. Instead I will cut your yard.I will cook you dinner. I will fill a clay jarmade by someone you love with exoticsalts. When I forget to turn off the stoveI will let you swallow me with smilesand tell me it is alright and I will not imaginethe future days where you hold my hand whisperingin passing the names of things. Tonight we will turn outthe lights and listen to the planetsstreaking and when morning comesour dog will be waiting at the end of the halloblivious to the mystery. End Page 31 Understanding Physics imagining my home curled around its booksand photographs and leftover soupand leaky pipes and dog ashesall squished into an unmeasurable singularitybut would this include bird feedersand if so what would become of the birdswith no seed and bountiful feral catsand would it include the purple wallthat stops anyone with a sense of wonder so mostly childrenand would our infinitely tiny massbecome just another Virgin Mary pomegranatewith roaming reporters learningto hate their jobor would it draw real buseslike privileged faces peering out of a mountainand what would my mother thinkbeing the mother of the little Big Bouncewhen all she really wanted was for me to come homefor Christmas or even in May or Octoberit hardly matters when to get that visitfrom her compressed boy still not understandingrelativity or quanta or why cold spoonsare warmed by hot soup only by chance End Page 32 Michael Rogner michael rogner is a restoration ecologist working to bring life back to rivers in California. His writing appears or is forthcoming in Willow Springs, Florida Review, Crab Creek Review, Rhino Poetry, Moon City Review, and elsewhere. Copyright © 2024 University of North Dakota