That matter can provoke contagion
if touched in its inmost fibers
ripped like a calf from its mother
like a pig from its own heart
screeching at the sight of its yanked organs;

That such a rupture can generate
the same wildfire energy that spreads
when society is torn, holy veil of the temple,
and the king's head falls, severed from the body of the state
so that the thaumaturge becomes the wound;

That the hearth's embrace becomes radiation
bonfire of nature decomposing
helpless before the smiles of bystanders
making for only the slightest increase
in room temperature;

That the form of every production
implies effraction, fission, a farewell
and that history is but the act of combustion
and Earth a tender pile of firewood
left out to dry in the sun,

is incredible, isn't it?