The sphere speaks sun
and Universe is.
Year is just a name for a thing.
Age only a contemplation on decay
complicated by the number of subjects
considered. I was a spider
; you were safe in my web.
Hungry though I was
for blood, I
We watch the town in its entirety (my dream)
engulfed in flame. They build facades
faster than we can burn them. Faux suits
and ties. Artificial bus stops
and empty lanes. I fuel the fire
(one by one) with my many legs.
All the time capsules I dig up
I have imagined you.
I have begun to picture
existence as a song.