Now

that we

are swallowed in the cosmos

in the great and bilious sea

in the leviathan

in its gut, we now

feel the muscles of the cosmos,

the tides, the tongue that

forces us like saliva

down its throat, and we being

beings, being who we are

like grit in the eye of the galaxy,

an ache in the ocean, inedible,

now, we promise, deep

in the belly, a stew and a

broth always — now notify

that the world which seemed

to be made from the outside in

gestates from the inside out: always,

we, these beings stinging and

indigestible.