Listen to the author read this poem (and another one too!)

You can enter a world where you stop to turn off the stove top or you can enter a world where everyone has a cell number with different area codes because nobody lives in one place. You can enter a world of corporate executives. You can enter a world where the complications don’t end and you are waiting for a phone call. You can enter a world where the brain swells and you are told not to walk. You can enter a world of annual incomes, where you become an economist. You can enter a world where the adults follow the children and seem incapable of concentration on anything other than themselves. You can enter a world of environmental concerns. You can enter a world where food becomes daylight. You can enter a world of regional trail running competitions. You can enter a world in which you grow a beard. You can enter a world in which you break through the resolution barriers in light microscopy. You can enter a world where you make a cactus out of a cucumber by inserting toothpicks—for educational purposes. You can enter a world of your weight on other worlds. You can enter a world where you stand on your head and count breaths. You can enter a world of organic web design, textiles, and quilting. You can enter a world of toxic substances difficult to pronounce. You can enter a world of jailbreakers. You can enter a world you already inhabit. You can enter a world of World Series poker events. You can enter a world where attention interlocks with understanding and you can enter a world in which there is no understanding despite the depths of your attention. You can enter a world of data. You can enter a world in which a small cup of tears becomes the end of time. You can enter a world to win big. You can enter a world in which the ocean inhabits your blood chemistry. You can enter a world of a recycled vessel. You can enter a world where you lurk, just below the surface of things. You can enter a world of redefinition. You can enter a world with color and texture where you swim in projections of light. You can enter a world of secret agents. You can enter a world constructed only of fallacies, of confetti, of rain, of indeterminacy. You can enter a world of lucid dreaming, and then you can enter it again in the dark. You can enter a world on steroids quickly and abruptly or you can enter quietly on your fingertips, leaving an invisible trail of skin particles in your wake. You can enter a virtual world which includes bars, clubs, a movie theater, a personal yacht, and a personal penthouse that only you and friends can enter. You can enter a world on a leash or you can be propelled into a world of helicopters. You can enter a world of gourmet coffee. You can enter a world where people speak softly and kindly. You can enter a world of demons. You can enter a world in quotation marks. You can enter a world of mediated cultures. You can enter a world made of felt, obsequiously. You can enter the world’s first flying car—speed over rocks, swampland, fences, or log-infested waterways. You can enter a world like a viscous liquid, like squid ink or curtains. You can enter a world of “welcome to the dark future.” You can crawl into a world of your own making on hands and knees. You can enter a world where the world ends with you. You can enter a world asleep, dormant, a fixture. You can enter a world of warcraft, click and enter. You can enter a world of enchanting Aztec baby names. You can enter a world of the best and worst jobs in the United States. You can enter a world of beach luxury at Puro Beach in Palma de Mallorca. You can enter a world of lectionary texts, elegant earth words, viridian foliage. You can enter a world where all of these things must be re-checked before you can enter: flood, suicide prevention, devastation affiliate center, oil production, free game download, world funding collapse. You can enter this earthquake preparedness map.