Nostalgia for the Hadron Collider

There is a practice of corrupting old as new Science

Not a science of time and space, but timespace

Of an anatomy between bone and some other wet cell

In between think and do and doing

when do has always already happened

and think is a proud hickey hidden under spacesuits and high collars

and doing tries to be Is.

It is choreography of whenever

It is for letting whatever happen

But whenever whatever happens

there is a singular harmonious meeting in timespace that u never knew 

could

be

or

‘Making Black Holes’

It might be familiar and at the same time unknow-ed

It is void, without voidness, only with

wiki-sci-gravity-push-pull-stillness-es

like the Forever Space that surrounds 

a lone dancer at some

indie pop trash show

What is left in between is a negotiation of 

the physics of social gravity

and the relentless desire to not be categorized

waify hippy

but the urgency

to take off all your clothes and dandy dance dance dddddd together.

It is light travelling from so far away that the source no longer exists

but the

l i g h t  d   o    e      s

somewhere

between your eyes doing seeing

and whatever pushed the light into timespace

that is both now and in the past

and

is

also

neither.

It asks nothing except 

the CAnadarm

be way longer 

and

more sequined

A pinkyshiny solitude for bigdecisionmaking

solospacemissions

or a reminder to look at Neptune from time to time.

It is not a collision 

dear Hadron,

but a meeting

between 

the forces of the universe

and 

a glitter harness with faux leather stirrups.

First Published in The Swedish Dance History, Volume 4, December 2012