Concerning equivalents:
lost amid
the Roman catacombs, a priest will halve
his candle flame
until one glow doubles
and redoubles on the tongues of terra-
cotta pots—
a lesson the split earthworm
learns, as he stands twice the chance of being
split again:
a wise move to reproduce
for two worms slither twice as far as one,
which explains
why warheads unlock themselves
above a cityscape, thus brokering
a wider
higher bloom—
their sanguine hues
and party stars spread throughout the ether.
Are fewer survivors
what this division
equals? How does such backward algebra
apply to the holy
whose wafers, cracked
in eighths, constitute a body, though whole
ones add up to crackers? Furthermore, how
am I standing here,
by-product of bi-
furcating cells, each one teased in two till
too many pulls
spelled embryo, and one
final tug divided me from other
