A New Kind of Science
We are practicing a new kind of science.
We are not tracking facts in straight lines.
In this science, we are taking whole apples
slowly from our mouths. We observe with lips,
tongues, and ink. We have words as our blood and bone.
We are gyres, we are song, we are the space in-between,
we are bodies of water. We fall into canyons, create new planets,
break into lightning, grow vines from our fingertips; we might be dreaming.
We might be screaming in an empty room. We might be tumbling into the future.
We might pollinate the universe with one hot breath, with one electric verb.
In this science, knowledge is not a system. It is an animal
giving birth, its jaw wide open.
Abby Adams is a grant writer at a leading civil liberties organization in New York City. Her poetry has appeared in Breadcrumb Scabs and Philly Flash Online.