by Runa
Albino Porcupine
Tonight the cosmic overview
knits stars into a single mass
of dark matter from which
not a shred of light can escape.
How do I know this isn’t
an ordinary overcast night?
An albino porcupine appeared
in Holderness this afternoon,
roaming like a runaway snowflake.
Even police stopped to watch it.
This portent suggested that stars
would abandon their primal errands
and cling together, shrinking
the universe to fit on a pie plate.
I realize I’m holding that cosmos
in the pose of a pieta.
The mass includes every atom
from the moment of everything’s birth.
What if I simply dropped it?
Gravity no longer applies,
which is why I can bear such weight—
a matter of balance, not strength.
I’m dressed in black in memory
of everything the universe did
in fourteen billion years. It took
all that time and effort to breed
that lone albino porcupine
trundling bravely across the night.
William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has taught at several colleges and universities. His most recent book of poetry is Venus, Jupiter (2023). His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in various journals. Instagram @williamdoreski Facebook: William Doreski.
RUNA was born and lives in Lisbon, Portugal. She graduated from the University of Lisbon, and recently received her Master of Arts in Painting from Fine Arts Faculty of the University of Lisbon (2022). Her master’s thesis focused on the theme of “Artist-Travellers”. RUNA has participated in more than thirty exhibitions, individual and collective, in Portugal, UK, Germany and Italy. Website: www.rutenorte.com / Instagram: rute_norte.