Microcosmos from Microcosmos by Lou Turner

The planet was born spinning
Never planning to make its move
In space there’s no clockwise
No risk of being misunderstood
Some planets move left handed
Ours is empty handed asking for more
From god’s hangnail moon hanging next door
Cat scratching on the sky and what for

Some of those microcosmos

The planet was born in the backyard
No gender reveal, but plenty of blue
In time, there’s no more time
No risk of being caught behind
Black hole blues about the way it goes
The planet asks for another song
From god’s hang-ten stars surfing along
Cat scratching at the black so long

For some of those microcosmos

And if I were bound in a nutshell of infinite space
That’s where we crackle in good grace and see face to face
We cut our context into pieces we can swallow
But something that melts was never hollow

But full of microcosmos

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