There is a heavily chandeliered
gas station in California, and if
you wonder if the night manager
has any new obsessions lately,

one is positioning the tradeoff
between flexibility and strength
as a modern development, and
another is considering talk of

weather as a way of making
mood public in other places (like
we use traffic). Also, a closed
expansion of the octave range.

And then a joke I won’t share
now because it only works
if you agree the idea of god is
hilarious. Mine: care as control,

moth wrestling as pageantry,
the intricacy of wiring the moon
would require if we lit it
ourselves, and scheduling

space to mourn a migraine as
it ends—the calm—the ceiling far,
and jeweled, and bright, brighter

Cindy Juyoung Ok, “Sunset, Glory”, in Ward Toward