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Black Marquee, Living Womb
That which came before and that which travels after
constitutes the multi-verse within. Implosions of matter
and explosion of rock fuel the seed that drifts tumultuous canals –
quasar and pulsar shake the inner core; a violent awakening
neither tangible or comprehendible. The stiff thrust of
frozen language dredges the heart. Parallel, the dreams
you see, or, nightly occupations – drain and temper. Taunt, even.
Man flagellates with the darkest questions; while gilded solutions
swirl in the palm of his hand. The cartography of lines
which carve the flesh show; all the palms of the earth –
join them to form maps of unknown perimeter.
See the trajectory on a flake of skin,
simple. Meditate the
catapult – we, inside the complex circus –
its black marquee, the living womb, caresses all life that ever
was and all that it will be.
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