This universe of words wherein we listen to ourselves
With mouths inside our mouths, with ears
Where all the ears are ours.
This universe of words, caged
Securely in our heads,
Discerning patterns out of patterns
Out of patterns which
Becomes an endless hall of mirrors
Multiplying infinities of ourselves.
The avenues of understanding clog
With package wrappers,
Rusted tin cans now emptied of gods, demons,
Elves and flitting dreams,
Fled from sterilities of gravity, the speed of light,
Entropic powers.
Times once they watched with small eyed threats
Crouched to spring to snare, now gone as smoke,
Or perhaps to wait in ambush in the dark.
Lately fears now have matured to stride
With flaming columns,
Attired in blood and screams,
Across the entire world.
We are transfixed, all of us,
In frozen array,
To tie our shoes,
Brush our teeth, comb our hair.
Odd whispers of realities
Slip between the marble columns
Carrying solidity. Smiles, bright toothed,
With red lipped wings
Flutter overhead to reassure.
There are strange rumbles
Beneath the floor
Criss-crossed in
Fine lines of growing cracks.
