Title poem of a collection by the Dutch writer Maria Barnas

Aha the Big Bang

Aha the Big Bang, I hear myself say.

How can it possibly fit in my mouth?

The start of it all a lump on my tongue.

Quiet. Fear is a bird-flock that rests in a tree.

Or is it words that huddle together

ink-black on the branches. It is a form

of panic that wells up in me and bursts from my

throat like a flock on the rise. The cosmos

unfurls its wings. We flap, holler and shriek.