Sunday, February 5, 2012

Day 8

Why not slap some DNA into her and make her more organic?
Because, you know, each and every one of us
could be dinosaurs someday, colossal, empty bones underneath
layers of soil,
landscapes in some alien world carved
entirely separate.

So why not have some fun while it lasts?
Because the ends of things
bring alien worlds to a tangible paradox,
unknown colours shed
some fingers to this perceptive universe.

And humanity, no river sweeps over the same dam twice when it all goes
to hell and
and no prescribed or doctored
mannerism could prepare you
for that moment
when your face twitches at the
thought of becoming sour,

tweaks at the
mere thought of becoming worn bones
or silvered and rectified in some corporeal attachment.

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