from Bohr's Model


Noah Eli Gordon

If we consider any molecular process, the result seems always to be that after a certain amount of energy characteristic for the systems in question is radiated out, the systems will again settle down in a stable state of equilibrium, in which the distances apart of the particles are of the same order of magnitude as before the process.  
                                                                     —Niels Bohr, 1913
 
 
 
it’s the third auditorium on
 
your right continued ethical engagement
 
of the narrative tradition will
 
begin momentarily to burst from
 
her concise articulation wasn’t what
 
we’d wanted exactly I’m not
 
so sure the line matters
 
I’m not so sure the
 
line matters you don’t just
 
get on a motorcycle and
 
become a kind of historical
 
category feeling what has been
 
said has been your solution
 
to its problems were interesting
 
I’d ride it out or
 
jump off I’m not so
 
sure the line matters unified
 
artistic school with a coherent
 
program or extension of power
 
by an expansionist idea about
 
the world being purely internalized
 
through reentry to that which
 
held one so ardently in
 
a compulsively intellectual grip might
 
be more or less perfunctory
 
as sun again disappears over
 
hilltops as hilltops again disappear
 
with its loss as again
 
I in vain attempt inscribing
 
as meaningful the evening in
 
which we as participants sense
 
a particular fascination clouding our
 
own abilities to see beyond
 
what mathematically speaking one line
 
can do to its neighbor
 
artistic innovation in the early
 
twentieth century was right leaning
 
he thinks in questions himself
 
each given a brief spotlight
 
enough plausible answers to render
 
as far as vacation spots
 
arbitrary constraint’s affectionless roundabout way
 
of what can only be
 
in our monument to the
 
crux of a crucial moment
 
a contorting and cyclical inversion
 
a kind of evidence of
 
fingers aimed at an auditorium
 
ethics aside I don’t have
 
a way out of this
 
I’d just like to relax
 
let’s assume that we are
 
circled around and then discarded
 
design and individual flourish but
 
not really such good painters
 
these scissors are doing fine
 
thus assumption leaves a thread
 
I love all my children
 
equally but I have no
 
children therefore I. A. Richards
 
excuse me I just something
 
finished breakfast and am now
 
back concerned about the supposed
 
recollection of tranquility in events
 
I’m trying something with narrative
 
I think you can see
 
how one flattens the conceptual
 
external consciousness entering the poem
 
pleasure as we know is
 
one metaphysical position among others
 
now I have proven that
 
anything rolls over the horizon
 
and gigantic posters of musicians
 
acquiescence to wallpaper wallpaper wallpaper
 
a thinner varnish might work
 
a particular fascination clouding our
 
handful of petals as they
 
posture what huh good morning
 
I think you can see
 
how one flattens the consciousness
 
of lazy thinking rearrange into
 
mean fireworks the yellow hue
 
is firm and fully delineated
 
if in paying close attention
 
for no reason at all
 
get on a motorcycle and
 
disappear look imaginatively at a
 
problem only to end up
 
sharpening your syncopated nesting instincts
 
signaling to the lone observer
 
that you’ve got a particular
 
way to inadvertently excise whatever
 
propositional marvels we’re able to
 
propose as the latest craze
 
otherwise we could talk implications
 
luxury at least is what you
 
haul a scheduling nightmare from
 
I’m not so sure the
 
one manifestation of his perseverance
 
would explain away what was
 
authentic about the image of
 
a leisurely stroll in unwavering
 
optimism considering a museum guard
 
onlookers mucking up everyone’s belief
 
here so roll with it
 
hope it likes us back
 
push it prematurely toward antiquation
 
put something down on it
 
the heart I mean it
 
to do its frolicking without
 
a boat a dockworker a book
 
compulsively intellectual grip device
 
for indicating this a few
 
stones one might crush form
 
suburban a good dose the
 
jumping point a lighthouse illuminating
 
a line to fill up
 
a lineated present where luxury
 
in which one poem’s success
 
inevitably necessitates a problem when
 
it comes to an inch
 
of space a red streamer
 
the first return to integrity
 
a sabbatical subtle swerving that
 
table lying across a thought
 
the needle a veil telling
 
any realization about its business
 
counselors constructing actors drowns honeysuckle
 
statuary in this afternoon light
 
some flower decorative afterward drifts