I was experiencing the future now
now
now
now
Never was I always waiting.
In the final sweep,
Nothing is revealed
in Its immaculate entirety.
I am not called but I will
go to meet my maker.
I go to take revenge.
wing, blade, glass, step
Orbiting a void circling half-sloped
blacked-out arcs of abyssal light,
formless placeless
the wordless path written in the stars,
instructions for the mechanism,
the balance wheel and gears of fate,
perfect and perpetual.
Begin to end,
a tear waters the seed
and ancient red cells spill out their color.
I am, briefly.
Darkly I see
fluttering lashes of light empty
all light into emptiness.
---
Perceiving perception reveals blindness.
Dimly see, briefly be.
i know this day
the aches of time -
stopping is dull pain
going is sharp
try to do neither
as minutes sag into days
days stretch into minutes
i know my goal
has a goal of its own
we both want to survive
hunger has teeth -
hunter, prey
hunter, pray
for my moment -
going feels like waiting
then waiting and waiting
and waiting to stop
arm stretched like chewing gum, legs melting upward
as the painted dome rises from above and falls
from below - it's here.
there's circuitry in the vascular walls
pumping existence thru tiny corridors - it's this.
the neon caramel navy turns septic, then polygonal, then filigree
matching facet for facet the violin strings which drop like dead birds
to sweep up in a gyre, breaking and threatening to break
breaking and threatening to
and all the while the dome reverberates and rotates between
past and fiction and song and place and person and touch
and planet and particle and part - it's now.
my wrists are tied -
the light is high
on the face of the world -
and all my loss - and all my life
is blurred
i see my future lover
as a flicker on stone -
dancing with my corpse
and am in bliss
alone -
and rapt, apart -
my heart is young -
and in the dark -
my hope is hung -
Some ways out and closing, across the arc of horizon a bulging anvil of black thunderclouds erupt and seethe like night made corporeal or all-deleting miasma spewed from the void's cauldron and I stand in wait watching it crash closer, churning the vast wasteland into revolted particulate adding unto itself, feeding and enlarging as if for brood, faster and louder roaring an ancient proclamation of arriving at the end, stampeding all oblivious in its destruction, engorged in self-perpetuation, now nearly upon me, blindly ravishing the sole and still witness to its coming from some unspeakable unmeasured abyss to here, to heed, its empty heralding signifying nothing save Nothing, not even to me, its casualty, its dirt, its supplicant.