Biology is a beautiful spectacle Beautiful, but tyrannical Brutal by any measurement Breaking, constantly, and re-arranging Itself, bit-by-bit, spiraling towards Infinity where it meets death Partially or fully, Where I wonder why we're still going Or whether what's gone Is worse than what's still living, The fear of loss and of existing Dialectically breathing dust into awareness. Soft, shifting dust Puzzled out perpetually into pieces So nothing stays complete. Not brains nor bodies, As nature clamours to dig deep And pull us through this twister Whether or not we comprehend.
Poems and Short Stories 