Current
Issue
Volume 12.1
Heikki Huotari
—
Bereft of Empathy
Bereft of empathy, what do they do at night. Behold the mechanism. Suits are focusing
on
one aspect of making airplanes, paper airplanes, and, ironically, no irony is lost. The
angel of the lord says unto them, Be not amused, and they are not amused.
I'm sorry sir you came from nowhere. Give a man a large prime number and he will be
happy, teach a man how to find primes and he will be ecstatic. I would be aware of my
surroundings and I'd at the same time have the oxygen uptake of an Olympian.
There was a two-by-two matrix of parallelograms of moonlight and a quantum not of
logic but of latitude and longitude and altitude. The alternate reality is up the stairs and to
the left. The threat is existential. None dare call it morbid curiosity
but the creators of the universe will always return to the scene. As the neuronal surface is
of one-way glass so my employer hides then “finds” my keys. There's nothing to see here
so move along. Go to Australia if you don't believe there's a black swan.
Heikki Huotari wrote his first poem the morning after the major died in the adjacent bed. Since retiring from academia/ mathematics he has published more than 500 poems in literary journals, including Pleiades, Florida Review and The Journal, and in six chapbooks and six collections. He has won one book prize (Star 82 Press) and two chapbook prizes (Gambling The Aisle and Survision Press). His Erdös number is two.
