Woke up. The rubber band about her neck. Skin suits loose their brittle bones. Poignant mannequins. In the windows we still share. The stiffened pendulum. Shoots its load.
The yellow tape around the perimeter. Weak eyes for nearsighted gods. Everything dies. Some sooner than expected. But what is murder. Intent? Ignorance? Or the science. That propels us. To discover. The truth.
The enormity of a world in which we are miniscule. Our willingness to admit. How small we've become. When giants are what we once were.
Evolution comes in wagers. The monkey lays down his chips. Bets it all on Darwin. The means we have created. The technologies invented. Everything we've made. All monsters now. Much bigger than us.
I don't trust the switch. But I turn off the lamp just the same. And stay in the dark. Convinced all our gods are deaf.
Tuesday
2/17/2009 12:08:00 AM
Sad Labels:
philosophy
| Life Poems |