the law the prophets and fig newtons

Paul Conant pages I
Paul Conant pages II
'Since Grandpa Died,' a play by Elizabeth O'Donnell and Paul Conant
for the sake of argument
let's say
i meek
all things newton
for now
and then of course
the code 'x' of moses
hollers from back you'nder
who am i
how do i know
says a stone
how should i know
thinks i in stein
figs
***
says isaac
we'll take a playful peek
under the covers
aha
exclaims the prophet
whose word made law
tis a great light spear
a flying phenom hurtled
thru the air apparent
sun of a ray gun look here
a rainbow host doth appear
yet the pure white light is
one
elijah
***
how is it that the moon and mars
keep faith with the farthest stars
is it the code 'x' of moses
or druidical data
that seals the deal
the elegance of the inverse square
does little to repair
the fall of gravity
mother
***
no need for all this ethereal fluff
says albert i
tell you light is a weighty matter
and further
space is time
and time is short
or long depending on the pace
of holy c
still i cannot give place
to any force that fields the light
as other than a concrete insight
into twisted reality
no dice
***
mathemythics bohr and bohm
hunting for lost cause's home
were whirls apart
co

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Poem lopped off here. Not sure
where the rest of it may be found.

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