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Monday, December 19, 2022

Evolutionary Tears

Evolutionary Tears

Behold!  Oh stop with the religious angelisms.
To the future I listen from rhombic speakers.
I float in the air like Caesar's thirty molecules
Brushing through your veoli in search
Of mushroom seeds and rabbit turds.
I am still a being in the time of solar dawns
That tear at atoms releasing their contents,
A bag corn chips scattered on pavement
Trampled by oxen that pull covered wagons
Made of glass and unknown metals.
My descendants settle in cracks 
In the concrete of black holes and super giants.
I disturb all conventions with a dedicated thought.
Monster of Motion, be not still at the end.
Your fight against the calm goes on
As it screams for me to hear its familiar octaves.

Barry G. Wick

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