Searching O. Hunt

Searching O. Hunt
Come have at us, we are strong.”

single tabular eye of O. Hunt
In a Nutshell - The Right Eye of O. Hunt

Elephant is,
Land dweller.
Seal,
Water-carving sea serpent.
If the two, accidentally entwined during teleportation, say …
What function from this form, unintended, would come?
Would we fear?
Would we worship?
Elephant and Seal,
Subatomic particles mingling meaning and purpose,
To foster atoms and cells,
Reorganize,
Split, and
In splitting become …

O. Hunt has vanished
Screen date on last post,
June 8, 2008.
I feel,
Maybe fear,
The infamous photon from Vienna has become a human,
Many humans.
Daily, perhaps?
Or just a test group of adventurous forward-thinkers departing June 8, 2008.
Ofelia, are you river floating
Poetic,
Stuck,
Just below the surface,
In a staged pool of light?

Dead.
From a prince’s abusive madness?
From a controlling, pestering, word-slayer of a father?
Or experimental teleportation?
One wonders,
On the stage.
Every exit …

Candlelight through a scrim …
Is this what we are?
Will become?
Photon to photon,
Cell to cell,
Information of Ofelia, superluminal, sent to the starry night,
Laced, and
Unlaced,
Adorned again,
But never sure she’s the same.

How much is held, of us,
In a thing so small?
A nutshell,
A river dell?
“Elephant seals negate the tactile universe.”
Still,
‘Tis true enough in words, and
As I tap,
And slide,
And flip,
Through her pages,
Her posts reveal
Her information has moved beyond atoms and cells,
Mingled with photons, and
Straddled the space of no time.

O. Hunt births still,
She breathes as I breathe
Her words,
The images come,
Their phenotypes revealed in,
Post after post.
Their truths mutable like her titled Elephant seal,
A saltation in species,
Screaming
Super-atomic,
A form beyond a copy,
With function multi-compatible,
Tactile without being touched.
Transformational, and
Trans-generational.

Yet, at the end of the day,
Ofelia is gone.
Her face,
That single photo,
Staring from her profile page,
A closeup of one eye,
Deep seismic shards of amber,
This is the remainder.
No more than a hint of O. Hunt,
Visible beyond the image border,
Confined in a nutshell.
Yet,
Somehow,
That single tabular eye,
Always makes me feel, like …
A King
Of infinite
Space.

O. Hunt’s Elephant seals

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10 thoughts on “Searching O. Hunt

  1. This was such an intriguing poem that I had to go and see who Ofelia Hunt was. I’m still intrigued! Very other-worldly, spooky mood you’ve set here. Thanks for visiting my blog!

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