Time is my absolute
a god image of my master
a fleeting blur of beyond
foretelling inevitable futures
all death all gone all dust all forgotten
on any calender and all this
mess
is wasted in us
we can't even envision the painting
as everything at once
as a forecast
showing immortal skies
seen at dawn and dusk of beginning
and end of times
we've lived through apocalypse
birth
rebirth
resurrection
the shells contain information
bags of flesh carrying us through the soup
prescient inter-dimensional soup
coddling us and we allow that shit
afraid of imaginary a concept
as death, ordinary
I kiss the mask
over our eyes at night
make sure it's snug
tomorrow is another day to forget.
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