Tie the gentle curve into a Gordian
Knot
or
fold the desert highway into pretzel logic.
Waves
will still break on the shore in fringe and foam.
Let
M.C. Escher walk up the down staircase,
take the Bureau of Weights and Measures off speed dial.
Rain
will still slant silver in the spring.
Siphon
the universe into a black hole
and
hammer a triangle into Picasso.
The
sun will still paint the meadow gold.
Unzip
the double helix of DNA into drooping flowers,
make
love to the twenty-something,
and
dine out with the old crone.
The
actress will still deliver her soliloquy
on
the proscenium either way.
Explode
the order of fractals into a jigsaw puzzle
or
build a shrine to Our Lady of the Hobos.
Particle
and wave will still keep dancing
no
matter how you diagram the sentence.
Expose
the man behind the curtain or not:
only
in the undoing will the doing find potential.
Order
becomes decay, decay is order’s art
in a cosmos that is cooling but always running hot.
Carry
the wisdom of the ages, but be forever young at heart.
You
will always be free to fold everything
back
into a reality you cannot understand
as
long as thought travels faster than the speed of light.
Tell
me I’m wrong, and then tell me I’m right.
~William Hammett
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