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"So, What Is Air?" by Joe DiMino

So, what of air?
A light enough
Question to raise;
To float—
Perhaps paint
A mental image
Though it’s clear—
All is not seen
While felt
On some plane
To some
Defining degree…

If not on surface
Then wormholes
Of you and me;

Those dimensions
When body and brain
Left behind
By unseen
Air-like pressure
The spirit is sucked,

Unraveled—reconstituted,

Homogenized

Between heaven and hell
Parched lips
Hungry for Infinity’s teat—

The mind and soul of our being;
Is endless meridian—

The breast/womb-nerve called Man

For ongoing
Drama
And Gossip
Of angels and devils….

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