Einstein Admitted His Mistake in 1929

The wind stirs the heat
like a pot
of rotten underpants boiling
and the tree
across the field
is a woman in silhouette.
Her hips are still
but she’s shaking
her hair, stretching her neck
in slow circles.
The universe
has no edge.
It expands as the stink
of garbage
in this heat except
nobody knows
when it might snap back.
If it ends,
it’s not so bad.
We’ll go one
by one or all
at once.
The houses on this block
look the same
and the neighborhood
would be desolate
if not for the children
and the American
flag raised 25 feet, waving
like a virgin
homecoming queen, chain
clanking dutifully
against
the silver pole
on which
it hangs.