OUR QUEEN OF EVERY POSSIBLE VISION An Imminent Critical Entropy Generations lay trapped under ICE I can’t stand it. Before, awaiting the crucifix/the noose/the stake. Dry mouths clucked. Now hands flying up at every possible vision A passing of space into joined fragments A shifting of time-thought, and stories from the deep The Worm within a Secret Planet – burned-out of crystalline purpose. Jagged-edged Mercury slipping time in a bottle. Cities below On clean-sweep detail, lights falling with the coming of Sleep, Bed after bed sinking in black holes, shivers creeping In short-order prayer: vast dissemination in modern tablature. The savior thrown up from scarred Earth – moving at light-speed, A space-time rip and stars flow like leaves In a blustering wind, Down twisted roads in dissonant flashes. The Queen could see it coming, always stunningly perceptive In her house with many others like her All twins caught in the same looking glass, Written down, unmoving, Burned-out as shadows In a blossoming cloud. The Night looking back, with invisible eyes. Cold. Unmoving. Trapped. Under ICE. |
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