Cosmic wrench, I threw in the middle – in the side, the circumstantial tide; the window of evidence to be observed. seen, scene, what do you keep seeing? just photon-photographic finality. just neuron-ne’er-do-wells and all the numbers that keep numbing the notion that we are new. that we are present, that we, at present, presently understand only that which can be seen. observed, made manifest. made measure-able. made of minutiae and memory. the momentous motion of the earth merely rattles in its cage and mentions the meaning at the bottom of the memo. keep looking, keep digging – go further. go farther, go deeper. there is more to the mind-train that the material world will mirror. murky, misty mystery – unfold me, corral me, sink your coral teeth into my crusted conceptions. crack it open – crack it open – this cartwheel, curtain show of a circus tent we all collapse under. we collide, like particles, and universes collapse. we collide, like love-bones, and the universe responds. keep looking, keep quarking. draw the circle wider – these quantum questions will keep colliding, and your reality will keep collapsing, unless you draw the circle wider – wider still – past the shape – pass the salt – salt the sea – turn it over – start again. cosmic wrench, keep twisting. screwing, unscrewing? where’s the lightbulb? and how many lightbulbs does it take to screw in a wrench? and how many words does it take to bring the point home – language will only take you so far.
then comes music. then comes the dance. which came first?
the cosmic egg. and the chicken, of course.