It is more
There are better things
There are so many places
Where a map has four cardinal directions
You have thousands and you haven't even counted the backwards
Inertia is a ruthless beast
If you're going or you're not
Friction is a demon
Tension is a weapon
The anxious inherit the earth second after second
You are fully programming you from one moment to the next
Random access, random operations, probability waves, possibilities
Collisions upon collisions over time and divided by nothing as important
The French have a way with food. It's true
So do the Japanese, and the Ethiopians, and the Mexicans, and pretty much everybody else
You do live in wonderful times, even if they aren't always wonderful
Your lost heat will destroy galaxies some day
One little, accumulating, accelerating bit of waste at a time
There's no other way
Every act is part of the end
Location:Melvin Dr,Baltimore,United States
3 comments:
To me, this intriguing poem feels like a dialogue between more than one part of the self which does not oppose the other, but rolls a couple of degrees off of the other.
Is it a feeling or more than a feeling? And so on. Reminds me of taking half and half and half again ad infinitum: "Every act is part of the end" but there is no end.
"Friction is a demon
Tension is a weapon
The anxious inherit the earth second after second
You are fully programming you from one moment to the next"
Love this, man. Love it.
You are all too kind... and I'm just biting your style J. See you soon I hope.
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