K a t h e r i n e G i b b e l —

The Wires

Sometimes when driving we stop so that he can photo a good pole

One pole propped up by guywires

One built from a certain angle to hide behind a mountain

A tensioned cable to add stability

Called simply by those in the biz a guy

Or one pole with loops of excess cable coiled in a snowshoe

When walking I don’t notice the poles

The wires seem like a headband for the trees

Or something less troublingly human

From the corner of the room where I am writing

I can see the thick strands connect the house to the street

It’s called a drop

Not at all like I dropped your call

Not at all a stop

The Wires

The data farm swelled

more in two years

than the rest of history

The data farm whirred

late into the night

Like a terrible party

which you can’t yet leave

The droning

on into a ceaseless hum

Its noise drove away the foxes

Much like a real mine

Much like a storm

blowing open the night

as the sea lifts its terrible head

The Wires

On the seafloor sharks gnaw on the tubular fiberoptic cables

These wires connect this country to a distant shore

built over the old stopped telegraph lines

A lattice reflecting the waves

Light traveling through great depth

carrying a little sound

Now the companies wrap their cables in Kevlar

to stop the sharks

I find the sharks charming and submarine cables alarming

That we covered the seafloor in wires

Huge spools of cables carried out by the tugboat Goliath

or cable layer ship René Descartes

Is David the big ship or the sea?

And who named that boat Descartes?

The Wires

On high the cloud empties itself of rain

The mouse empties itself of piss

frequently and with increasing malodor

The spider unpicks her web

then weaves another in the faint light

I debug the printer

and spill dusty toner across the slate floor

I hold in my hand one jewel tone beetle

This summer insects swarmed my hair

Every afternoon I pulled one from my scalp

I hold in my hand my relationship to the 20th Century

to a small microphone below my wrinkled lapel

to Public Works spraying the trees

to the lines of code describing it

.