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A Poem by Brittney Scott: ‘The Regulation of Falling Our bodies’

the place M is the mass of my brother’s physique
falling after he pulled the set off.
And right here we’re, certain to Earth’s pull
downward. His knees hit the ground first.
I rose shortly from my mattress, understanding
the space was too nice, like these goals
the place you run and run
however the area simply retains increasing.
This fall is a brief vertical distance,
with little resistance now, the time
for resistance is over. Measurement and geometry
matter, however the angle
of his face tilted towards mine
once I enter the room doesn’t issue.
Let’s go to the moon, let’s go wherever
the place the principles don’t apply,
the place a hammer and a feather
are equal. Let’s go farther,
just like the deepest a part of my thoughts
the place he’ll all the time be falling,
or farther nonetheless, the place a bullet divides
the space between so slowly
that it takes his entire life to get there.

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