I Am the Center of the Universe

I am the center of the universe
and so are you. I know what you’re thinking.
That seems egocentric. But any view
otherwise is short-sighted, not linking
with a whole, systematically perverse.

Since the Big Bang, which is the center star?
Is my heart the heart of me? My core
my navel? All living bodies are
irregular. No equi-distant point or
balance between all sides because nature
abhors the static. And yet I must start
somewhere. A heartline’s gyrating center
always on the move. The whole tipping part.

This pointing gyre begins with me.
No matter how dizzy that’s clear.
Without a fixity
nothing will appear.

Eye the sashay of the tornado,
the rites of frenzy, the flights of snow.
Growth and decay in the potato.
Circling orders the fast and the slow.