Kevin is playing with a poem in different formats.  I think it is a good idea.  I am playing, but I am also, in the spirit of #clmooc’s Make Cycle Five,  moving my writing toward the light.  And that means tinkering with all the levers and circuits and led’s that are in any worthy poem.  I think there is  lots of light in poems already without adding any further bells and whistles, but I am willing to see if moving toward the light helps. Below is my poem in text form.  Actually, it is already in light form on this monitor so I suppose it is transmedia, barely.

The World Is Curving

Bats stooping for mayflies,

Stars shooting by the fistful through lolling moondark skies,

A firefly’s glad malarkey, reverse meteors in the dusk,

An unrandom scimitar of ants,

Heat ribbons blooming through tar paper,

The skirring bombillation of hummers on the bee balm,

Yellowjackets swarming the rinds,

A snailslick across a flagstone,

The idiot wave of a black walnut’s hand in just the right breeze,

Dawn-pooled light dappling the jackrock creekbed,

The rippling glisten of funnel spider whorls.

Summer dreams peopled by looping, whitewashed days.

Crammed with the calming blessed swell of earth

Curling toward its own ends.