Everywhere there is a pattern
It is not unknown to us
Still, it is not known at any known moment
What is it like to be knowable
it goes beyond
Why waste time on the unknowable
black marble vessel beyond this
someone whispers
it is your turn
It is my turn?
The milkman spinning in eternity
Blasting forever
into a vastness that has no name
Rattlesnake land
that is not to be tamed
even by the bomb shelter dweller
even by the smoke
between two veils
where songs meet the mind
Monday, November 25, 2013
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