Observing the Slow-Motion Fall of a Bagel Into a Pool of Milk
rotating, arcing
against a void, a blankness
a wall
its shiny skin
reflecting light
from a bulb
bending it, turning it
now it is soft
now it is still soft
and now
it is harsher
that bulb must be
a thousand watts
of hot
white
white
and now it is gone
and the light brown circle now oval now circle again is about to reach the surface it is a circle it is an oval and we hold our breath in anticipation
splash!
curving walls of white snake up snake down the ring tosses tilts and tosses some more
but now it rests it floats and a thousand tiny ripples run out from it run away from it
they run until they are gone forever like so many onion-soaked dreams we once had
and now it is gone
and the light brown circle now oval now circle again is about to reach the surface it is a circle it is an oval and we hold our breath in anticipation
splash!
curving walls of white snake up snake down the ring tosses tilts and tosses some more
but now it rests it floats and a thousand tiny ripples run out from it run away from it
they run until they are gone forever like so many onion-soaked dreams we once had
