John Kinsella reads

Rapture: Tim Discovers the Cosmos

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As my cosmology fades, Tim’s
forms like a birthing star and brightens.
My illuminations go no further

than: on a dull day powderbarks
glow like conscience. Carnaby’s
cockatoos fly back and forth

uncertain as the barometer.
Brightness forces similes. And we
know about them. Once

outside the earth’s atmosphere
there’s no holding Tim back.
He knows the order of the planets

without a mnemonic, backwards.
He is already travelling beyond them.
An asteroid belt is no hindrance.

His new, habitable planets—
Leed, Watar, Vilantar, and Britar—
have the sulphuric yellow

clouds of Venus, the redness of Mars,
the basic lack of atmosphere
on his favourite ‘inner planet’,

Mercury. Mercury—days
of conflagration, nights of annihilating
cold. The extremities define

his planets, creation: the body
has no limits. In space you can breathe.