A Physics

She opened the pigpens—
A physics of badlands
Resembled the scrubby hills
Of Theodore Roosevelt National Park.
A parliament of swine chuff—
Popped and faded paroxysms,
sonnets of oilfield imbalances,
Oilskin flints, & parley figs.
She sang to the pigs:
An imperfect parricide breeds
This parody of oligarchy.
Swim, pigs, swim!

What I’m Reading:

It might seem weird, but I always feel most comfortable spending the night in abandoned buildings. Be it a cold high-rise in Prypyat or an apartment without furniture in Chornobyl-2. I always feel calm in buildings where the roofing tar is covered with moss; where a ferocious May shower turns the roof into a swamp teeming with mosquitoes and tadpoles; where trees grow. 

— Markiyan Kamysh / Stalking the Atomic City: Life Among the Decadentband the Depraved of Chernobyl