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The Big Bang


Some summer nights a storm would come
knock the TV’s teeth out. Alone with them,
all their mother had wanted was to fall asleep
on the couch before going up to bed.
Restless, they moved from living room
to kitchen. Craving something cold,
they tried eating the freezer-burned ice cream
too soon. The cheap spoons craned their necks
like cows down with milk fever. They suffered
brain freezes and straightened their spoons,
waiting for the power to come back on.
If she’d known that the static on the screen
was the background noise of the Big Bang,
she might have sat them down before
the erratic field of their origin and told them
something they would never forget.
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