I think
I had a thought.

'Fundamentality rules reality.'

(hello...?)

Precarious patterns precede my bleeds,
wingless soaring demands me to see.

(am i blind…can you show me around?)

“Beget,“ I spat.
It spat me back
and drowned me in its blooming womb.

Slice a rebirth, confess nothing,
reach in deep, squeeze, release,
stretched by cosmic reeling chaos,
a slave, a maid, to quantitative bias.

(did something just…touch me?)

Loose a sun and you have won,
black hole breathing, seeding, needing
Time’s chaotic sustaining feeding.

Is wordiness redundant?

(someone let me out)

I have to, have to...

Look to the sky, wonder why,
agonize flesh...what, instead?
An atom’s face? Or eternities pace?
Nothing’s real, everything’s placed.

Enjoy my mind,
enjoying my mind,
it’s leaping away,
my earthly time.

(what am i?)

The light, so bright.
I ask you, please,
can you, will you,
Big Bang me?

The essence of sense
senses its presence.

(how?)

Do I think normally?

The masque of the fact,
the secret bane, tailor-made,
am I insane?

(help)

I’ve lost the thought,
it’s all for naught.

I have a pen?

Let’s start again.

'Reality rules fundamentality.'

(hello...?)

Hue of hubris bleeds my name,
enter, splinter, feel my being.

Erin Elizabeth Kelly-Moen
9/26/03 Copyright 2003/2004 ©