the round (or, like the planet, not?)
belling brown clock with the roman
face says V past X (how close to a truth
should mechanics be held to account?)
celestially in place in the landscape (politic
ally ordained by me) it speaks a languid
language i barely understand and always
too (boo!) late
behind time the stone wall displays
its fluid nature every time i look (see, there
it’s done it again – another face and there
another!) and with the ninety three percent
that is the bulk of language it says longer than
you by two hundred years i’ve been here
without fear without joy without needing
understanding my place in the cosmos i know
more and will always than you no matter
how long you ponder
but you, i sneery say, are dead even molten
you were and have always been so
and you, says the wall, in universal terms
are dead though you clearly don’t know it
you mean dead and alive be the same to
the universe it not being sentient but sentience
means merely being able to react to sensation an
amoeba does that bacteria do that and the uni
verse definitely reacts to a super nova does that
mean perhaps the universe reacting is therefore
sentient i mention it only because we pat our
selves on the back with our third arms constant
lie for being so solely designated
somebody get a dictionary, look up 'feeling' and
'sensation', and clear this shit up so we can all
go home ok
___
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