Listen to the world’s best poetry read out loud.

The ultra-shine quality in magic quantum 

Is what she has fallen in love with  

Disquisition, she feels like telling someone 

Tugging at their sleeve 

That’s the word I’ve fallen in love with 

Is that an ocelot or an aye-aye? 

Is that an anoa? 

Genet, you old world carnivore! 

Goanna, you lizard 

Space Gulliver is experiencing delirium 

Like the weightlessness she was once 

Addicted to 

It is only at the beginning of falling  

That you experience delirium 

She tells herself 

With the sternness of the auto-didact 

When the ultra-shine quality of magic quantum 

Illuminates the mass that is moving towards you 

At the speed of light of thunder 

Of fallen lightning 

That’s when space vanishes 

He might have been wearing her seven-leaguers  

The way his strides swallowed the earth the sky the gulf 

Between them 

Which an instant ago was solid, carpeted  

Held down by human- and table-legs 

Chairs holding bodies 

Not astral not remotely luminous 

Until this happened 

The magic shine of ultra-quantum  

Hyperbolic parabola 

The path you took towards me 

Never reduce me to me again 

Space Gulliver chastises him 

With a joy 

She might have considered unbecoming in someone 

Of her age 

And gravity 

If it weren’t for curve points equidistance 

Wonders that make her shine 

Like the quality of magic 

This quantum ultravenously   

Surrounding her with its smell of sky 

This is heaven, then 

Space Gulliver thinks, as she wears his scent 

Left lightly on her breast 

And moves through the minutes 

At a very secret gallop 

This disappearance of place  

An elephant on one finger a serpent around the other  

In this paradise the serpent is beautiful 

Wise as the elephant is strong 

In this space beyond space which is heaven 

Each animal sounds like its name 

So you can recognize it 

Though you have never seen it before 

The colocolo a South American wild cat, the komondor a Hungarian dog 

The book at your doorstep in the middle of the night 

In the middle of your rumpled room 

A Manual of Tibetan Grammar 

The xenopus an African frog, the bulbul a Persian bird  

Tahr your wildness your long torso your short stout recurving hands 

Tamarin your silky hair 

If all these names exist, then why not love?