Forward

Imagine this: a sheet of paper
Stretching flat for miles and miles,
For years and years, until
A necessary distortion, a tiny
Scratch with no real owner.
A slight ripple comes, but flatness
Quickly returns, not seeing
The light burp of particulates
Spreading. Years and years,
Miles and miles, the particulates
Escape from the scratch
And tumble among themselves
Until heavy things start to form.
The heavy things are too heavy
For the paper, and start bending
Flatness until gravity and dimensionality
Occur. The flatness is gone.
The paper becomes a misformed
Space. That’s how I often see it.

We believe in the peace
Before the great occurrence,
But it wasn’t even peace.
This complexity is just the face
Of a dying system, you might say,
It will never be whole, never be
Flat again, but this is just another
Feeling that humans have.
We’re not big fans of the…