How can nothing be something?
I don’t know, but it is all the time.
And the opposite is also true.
How can nothing be something?
I don’t know, but it is all the time.
And the opposite is also true.

I had thought light and then dust
was my enemy, but then I saw the mold,
spores of it skipping from the window to the shelf
to the tops of the books below.
These freckles I bleached.
Till I dreamt of them, swirling.
Not for fear but love did I dream –
for he in whom the cancer had spread –
of microbursts and a metastatic sky.
God has put himself
there, too, where,
God knows,
we shouldn’t go

They plunged deep in
out of the world
right in the middle of it

When you sleep in a tent a lion may come
and therefore I give you this knife

“Back to Square One” by Peter Land, 2015. Kunsthal Rotterdam.
It’s not in a can.
You can’t buy the can
and open it
and pull it out
and dress it up with mustard.
Nor can you dream it up
or get rich enough to buy it.
That’s not what it is.
It doesn’t work that way.