"This is the thing, all the energy is flowing
In parallel lines in opposing directions constantly, like the tides of the
oceans." She said,
While the stars whirled their predictable circles above,
We were waiting, moving forward in some bent convertible an accidental
Rip in the ether.
"All things move forward in a predictable fashion I would have to agree, but
There is compelling evidence of a certain
There are trends, we must agree, and happenstance
Weird trailers of mood and wispy silhouettes of graceful roots and pure
"The wickedness of it all," She said, "Sometimes I feel like a psychic booger
"That's crude," I replied,
"Perhaps it is but the fact still remains, nonsense has a price,"
"Perhaps it does,"
"Speaking of chaos"
"I never said chaos, " "I know but there was an implication, there's always an
"Back to things moving forward in a predictable fashion, I believe that some
So complex they may only repeat themselves
Every hundred billion cycles but
I don't know what that has to do with anything."
"Either do I." "Who?" "What do you mean?" "What did you say?"
"There are pigeons everywhere,"
"That's because they live here..what were you saying about wicked, psychic
"People, everywhere in their giant, turning hemispheres, hoping and churning
Urban legends and foil wrapped monosodium glutamate protein cakes
"But it's all moving forward?" "Quite. "She said. "It is moving forward in
All the millenniums
Spinning in the eternal, grace of the universe forever."
"There is a cold, flat place in my soul." "I'm sorry, we've all had one of
those, the question is
Does it hurt?"
"Well yes, the truth is sometimes it feels like smiling with no teeth and they
Right through me."
"But does it hurt?"
"I can feel the darkness and the wretched, aimless, electric wandering
Of your soul in this wasteland,"
"Where you are, I have been."
"Sometimes I worry that things are going backwards."
"Why would you worry about that?"
"You tell me."
"There is a lot more dead shit in the bosom of the earth than there is alive
in it right now."
"Who said that?" "I did." "I know but surely someone said it
Splitting the atomic hymen, the generic, bloody, mutated
Face of hell and spinning, spitting and cursing
The terrible, cyclonic descent
Rolling back upon myself
Roaring through the ages I have come
To this, the poison abyss, all the humanity and every breath, every passion
A glowing ember, turning again over and over down the street ahead of
A pensive, misplaced wind
Rolling over and over and over upon itself.