Clade Song 9

Flicker

Flicker: it’s what flames do, and wings, the wave-like undulations of flight,
Little black scalloped wave along the edge of each orange-shafted feather—                   
It’s night, sunset, night, sunset again, the in and out of tides, alternation of
Chaos and control. It’s the heartbeat, it’s an EEG, pink noise of neural oscillation,
Knock and kiss of the brain talking to itself—delta waves and alpha waves. In
Electronics, it’s flicker noise—crest and frequency and hiss—this endless
Rise and fall of quasar light and music, of everything in us and around us.


 

 

 

Henrietta Goodman is the author of three books of poetry: All That Held Us, a sonnet-sequencepublished by BkMk Press in 2018 as winner of the John Ciardi Prize; Hungry Moon, published by Colorado State University in 2013; and Take What You Want, which won the Beatrice Hawley Award from Alice James Books in 2006. Her poems in this issue are part of a collaboration with the poet Ryan Scariano consisting of dual-alphabets of acrostic poems contemplating intersections of the human and non-human animal worlds. She teaches at the University of Montana and at Texas Tech University and lives in Missoula, Montana.