After Louise Glück
At a certain hour today, I learned of allision.
Obsolete now, fixed to maritime law:
one ship runs upon another
resisting the blurred tread of the ocean.
Even against progression, the act is accurate;
yielding: a feint straight line.
Along this seamless form runs the current of
a somatic physics,
as though the event of interaction between two objects
finds gratifying the lock of their forces.
Whatever is produced is in excess,
a residue seen without feeling.
We could not defend a lack of movement if we tried—
such stillness, so well-timed
not even late, really quite early?
Why should we be made to remember
the instant our data dissatisfies.
The act of alliding; of impact, striking the static.
It disturbs the mercury coming to rest against our faces.
It takes energy to misalign.